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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28603230">My Funny Valentine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/letitfillyoursoul/pseuds/letitfillyoursoul'>letitfillyoursoul</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dead Poets Society (1989)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Lovers, Every once in a while I write a dps fic ive been here too long, Idiots in Love, M/M, Multi, Neil Perry (Dead Poets Society) Lives, Nonbinary Charlie Dalton, Steven is trans, Strangers to Lovers, anderperry, guys... I think this is gonna be slow burn, letter writing au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:02:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,329</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28603230</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/letitfillyoursoul/pseuds/letitfillyoursoul</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A college AU where Charlie and Meeks live a floor apart in the same dorm building, Charlie doesn’t stop at just learning saxophone, and Steven is an insomniac:</p><p>What can go wrong?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charlie Dalton/Steven Meeks, Ginny Danbury/Chris Noel, Todd Anderson/Neil Perry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Sweet, Comic Valentine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He isn’t sure exactly when he first heard an overconfident voice belting Mitski, or a saxophone trying valiantly to play Careless Whisper, but suddenly, Steven Meeks has a very loud upstairs neighbor.</p>
<p>It’s halfway through an uneventful friday, and in between questions in his biology textbook Steven is keeping an ear out for the hum he’s grown used to. Whoever is up there is slightly off pitch, but he doesn’t mind. Having a single dorm might’ve been the correct choice according to his mother (and his social anxiety) but in reality it’s cocooned him into a bubble, consisting solely of going to class and hosting Gerard and Ginny.</p>
<p>It is nice, going to the same college as his best friends, but Meeks isn’t quite sure why it has to be his cramped dorm they all pile into and not their luxurious triple on the nicer side of campus. Even right now, with only one guest, he’s pressed up against the wall to make room for Gerard on his bed. Usually Meeks would complain about the legs draped across his lap, but his New Years resolution was to be less fussy, and Gerard is too sweet to say no to.</p>
<p>Anyways, what he’s trying to say is that it can be lonely at night, and he hated the quiet of fall semester, so when January rolled around he began to hear a mystery resident thumping around, he was comforted. By now, with a chunk out of February, whoever is up there seems to have gained some confidence.</p>
<p>“What the hell is that?” Gerard points up at the popcorn ceiling. He’s not really referring to the bumpy surface, but instead the wailing female voice coming from speakers.</p>
<p>“Don’t you know? It’s Phoebe Bridgers Friday,” Meeks smiles dryly and finishes highlighting a passage in his textbook.</p>
<p>Gerard mimes holding a broom and hitting the ceiling. “God. How do you deal with that? I thought my roommate playing ASMR to go to sleep was bad.”</p>
<p>“Ginny likes ASMR?”</p>
<p>“No, the other roommate. The quiet one who just moved in. He seems cool, if he ever starts talking to us I’ll introduce you.”</p>
<p>Steven laughs. When he moved into town freshman year he was the quiet one. Meeting Gerard and Ginny made him feel like he could never shut up, but in a good way. It wasn’t like that with other people.</p>
<p>“He’s probably just shy. I don’t know, try bonding with him over something. As long as he isn’t a republican”</p>
<p>Gerard shakes his head and turns back to the ceiling. Up there, Phoebe is singing about hands in mouths and Steven shudders. Judging by this week’s line up, his neighbor has been having a rough time.</p>
<p>“Why don't you call the RA on them? Do you even sleep?”</p>
<p>I don’t, Steven wants to reply. But his insomnia feels too private to mention, even to his best friend.</p>
<p>“If it’s a problem we can go to your apartment next time. You’re the one with a couch….”</p>
<p>Gerard shrugs, “Whoever they are, at least they don’t have shit taste.”</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s Valentine's day and Steven is spending it alone. This would be sad if it was anything other than usual. Even when he was little he hated it. His middle school boyfriend had made such a big deal of it, with an oversized teddy bear and box of chocolates. Half of them were peanut filled so he ended up giving them to his mom.</p>
<p>Most of his Valentine’s days aren’t super remarkable.When people ask him why he hates it so much, he’s always prepared to rattle off all of his knowledge regarding the holiday being a loveless, corporate sham. What he really doesn’t like is the spectacle. A holiday for broadcasting yourself, and your love? No thank you. Steven already had enough people looking at him in the past, he doesn’t need a holiday as another reminder.</p>
<p>It seems like his neighbor likes the holiday, though. Celine Dion has been playing full blast for most of the day. At one point he heard another voice yelling at the culprit to turn it down. He’s assuming it’s one of the roommates. The building is shittily constructed, and Stevens had enough time awake to differentiate the muffled voices and footsteps that never seem to stop. There’s a heavy footed one, with a lilting voice, and another who reads supreme court cases out loud. Both of those are much less common than the singing neighbor, who he can only assume has the room right above his. In his free time he imagines lives for them all, full and bustling. It’s embarrassing, he knows. But it’s better than silence.</p>
<p>But enough about that. Today isn’t just a holiday, it’s his night off. He can wander around his dorm topless and watch <em>Pretty Little Liars</em> to his heart's content. Gerard mocks him about his taste in television, but hey, a man has to have his soft spots. Steven knows that most of himself is made up of the soft spots.</p>
<p>It’s already nine pm when his phone rings, blaring the classic alarm that Ginny had set as her ringtone. It’s a wonder he even reacts to it anymore, given how little he sleeps nowadays, but the flinch of a well rested past is still there.</p>
<p>“Ok, spill,” Steven can barely exhale fully before Ginny is fumbling her way through a breathless and presumably starry eyed explanation of her latest hinge date.</p>
<p>“... and then when I was leaving her apartment she like… she held my face in her hands to kiss me. Fuck. I know I said I wasn’t gonna date for a while after, you know. But goddddd she wants to be a chef, and she made me breakfast.”</p>
<p>Steven laughs a little, having followed the entire ADHD fueled ramble. This is what makes him love Ginny. Her passion is hard to avoid, like a Carly Rae Jepson song.</p>
<p>“What’s her name again?”</p>
<p>“Chris,” Ginny sighs, seemingly regaining all the breath she just left, “Anyways… how are you?”</p>
<p>“Oh, you know. I’m at the part of Pretty Little Liars where Ian comes back and marries Melissa. God, this show has an issue with creepy men.”</p>
<p>“Meeksie, I asked how you are, not for a summary of your weird show. How are you, dude? I feel like every time I see you you’re spacing out.”</p>
<p>He pauses at this. She’s always been pushier than Gerard. In some ways he appreciates it but right now he wants to shrivel up into a ball.</p>
<p>“I’m okay. I haven’t been sleeping well… but it’s okay. I just have more time to do homework, you know?” He attempts to laugh but it’s flat. He imagines Ginny is walking through campus half frowning as he says this.</p>
<p>“I’m worried about you. I can see your Spotify activity, you know that right? I mean unfortunately I can see Gerard’s too,” her voice gets lower, giggly, “Did you know he is just constantly listening to 100 gecs? How is he straight…”</p>
<p>She suddenly seems to remember where her sentence started, and clears her throat, “Anyways, I know this time of the year is rough for you. But uh… playing <em>Sweet Cis Teen</em> on repeat is a little concerning babe. I won’t press but you can talk to me. You know that, right?”</p>
<p>Of course he can talk to her. He’s known her since he was 14 and acne prone. Now he’s 19 and still acne prone but in a different way and of course he can talk to her, but there is only so much she can do. Same with Gerard.</p>
<p>“I know Ginny. I’m fine, really.”</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Steven is halfway through a bottle of wine when he hears it. He has to pause his show right before the season finale and he doesn’t even care, because the person upstairs is singing along to a quiet piano and it’s so beautiful that he doesn’t remember how to breathe.</p>
<p>He hasn’t cried in months but here it is. Embarrassing, he knows, but these are tired, desperate tears. The voice builds and cracks over words Steven has heard so many times before, but never this sad.</p>
<p>Another drink is all it takes for him to write the letter.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Charlie wakes up to Neil haphazardly pulling open the blinds, his tall frame pausing to lean over Charlie’s bed.</p>
<p>“You gonna make an appearance today, or is the world not worthy of your presence?”</p>
<p>Charlie groans and hits Neil with their pillow. They don’t have to open their eyes more than a squint to know that Neil is smirking at this comment. Begrudgingly, they pull themself out of bed and peer out the window. A quick touch of the glass affirms that its fucking freezing, so much so that they take a moment to debate whether going to class is really worth it, especially with the hangover. But it’s modern poetry and Neil is also taking it, so they can’t get out of it without theatrics that would require less of a headache.</p>
<p>“What did Keating say was due today?”</p>
<p>“Discussion board on the Paige Lewis poem. You know, the one you didn’t read yet?”</p>
<p>Charlie spends the rest of the late morning getting ready and reading for class. The poem is about the sun and shadows and a type of love they don’t really understand yet. They put question marks after the last line. It’s fifteen minutes before class and they’re sweeping blush across their cheeks when Neil lets out a final exasperated sigh and Charlie caves.</p>
<p>“Ok, ok. I’m coming.”</p>
<p>The class is lively as usual, even before Keating arrives. Several students have already started pulling chairs to form a circle, a tradition their professor had started early on. It’s a little silly, but it gives them an opportunity to see everyone better, something that they can’t help but enjoy.</p>
<p>Charlie is notoriously awful at putting names to faces, so they keep secret nicknames for their favorite classmates. There are a lot of them, of course, and most of the nicknames are pretty juvenile. They’ve already had crushes on several - barely below the surface, but still there. When they were little, their mom used to call them a hopeless romantic and blame their venus being in cancer. As a young queer adult they’re now inclined to agree with her.</p>
<p>That being said, Charlie spends most of the class doodling in the margins of the poem. In high school they used to draw boobs on assignments, probably to buy into the hetero facade they had going for a while. That daring objectification left when they came out. Neil blabbers on next to them about the true meaning of love and the connection of titles to poems. It’s sweet, but they would rather explore love via silently sketching the people in their class.</p>
<p>They’re in the middle of finishing a sketch of the mousey boy whose eyes haven’t left Neil all class when suddenly, they feel eyes on them.</p>
<p>“Mr. Dalton, I asked if you had any thoughts to share on the poem… or are you preoccupied?” Keating half smiles at this and Charlie’s face flushes, a betrayal of their cultivated aesthetic.</p>
<p>“It’s not Mr, Professor Keating. It’s just Charlie.”</p>
<p>They pray that this lapse will make up for a proper answer, but the look on Keating’s face suggests otherwise.</p>
<p>“My apologies Charlie. Won’t happen again. Would you tell us about how the poem made you feel?”</p>
<p>“How the poem made me feel… well, like Neil was saying, I like how the title leads into the poem, it’s clever,” they pause, almost embarrassed. Diagonal to them, they notice a red headed boy staring intently at their nail polish. Dick.</p>
<p>“... Um. If i’m being honest, it almost seems too good to be true. Like, when the lover kisses his own wrist? It’s unrealistic.”</p>
<p>It’s not good enough for Keating. He presses on: “In what way is it unrealistic? Do you think Lewis is trying to present a fantasy to readers?”</p>
<p>“I guess that’s not what I meant...I just think it’s about knowing someone. I mean, I know Neil like the back of my hand, and you won’t catch me declaring my love for him anytime soon,” Charlie says.</p>
<p>Neil shoves them a bit, but Charlie notices him crack a smile. Keating laughs at this, but moves closer to Charlie.</p>
<p>“Well it seems you haven’t offended Mr. Perry with this information, which is good. I’d like to avoid heartbreak in my class this term… I have to say though, I think the actions of knowing someone and loving someone don’t exist apart from one another. It might be more similar than one would expect,” Keating pauses and gives them a thoughtful look that they can’t decipher, “thank you for sharing, Charlie.”</p>
<p>The rest of class is blurry. Charlie can’t seem to find a comfortable way to sit in their chair, and the red headed boy is still looking at them. They attempt to shoot a glare his way but every time the boy burrows his head in notes that look far too neat for a poetry class. That and the awful exchange with Keating is enough to throw them off their game, for today.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Two classes later, Charlie is rubbing heat back into their hands as they hike up the stairs to their dorm. Their other classes weren’t as bad. In Quantitative Reasoning they sat up high and watched people do weird shit on their computers, and they’ve become a big hit in Intro to Gender Studies.</p>
<p>They start unraveling their scarf as they fumble around in their pockets for keys, eager to take an afternoon nap. Knox always calls them an old person for all of their habits. This weirdly includes the amount of glitter eyeshadow they wear. They only let him get away with it because they’d unfortunately developed a soft spot for him. It’s probably the puppy dog eyes when he wants the last bite of ice cream that did Charlie in.</p>
<p>Before they can turn the key, the door pulls inward to reveal Knox himself, a bagel stuffed in his mouth.</p>
<p>“Hey sweetcheeks,” Charlie grins, rustling Knox’s already mussed bed head, “Did you even go to class today?”</p>
<p>Knox half smirks, half swallows the bagel, if that’s even possible.</p>
<p>“Nice to see you too, Char.”</p>
<p>“What’s your day off excuse this time, Ferris?” Charlie pulls Knox into their room and spreads out on their bed, attempting to kick their shoes off. Knox shrugs and sits on the end of the lumpy bed, pulling Charlie’s shoes off for them and placing them on the ground.</p>
<p>“It doesn’t matter,” Knox replies, “Anyways, i’ve got something for you.”</p>
<p>Charlie pushes themself up by the elbows to look as Knox pulls a folded up piece of paper from his overall pocket.</p>
<p>“Don’t get mad at me, but I read it. I didn’t know it was for you,” He continues, starting to lie down on Charlie’s bed. Charlie swats him.</p>
<p>“Get offff, loser. What is it, anyways? A note from Cameron about my illicit activities in the dormitory again? I thought he was over that.”</p>
<p>“Uhh… not exactly. It’s a letter… for you…”</p>
<p>“A letter? Who the fuck writes letters anymore?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I’m Not Okay (I Promise)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The letters start, Gerard has a sick jacket, and Todd appears!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for the kudos + comments + reads!!! it means a lot. hope y’all enjoy this. </p><p> </p><p>see you next week,<br/>han</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Dear neighbor,  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You don’t know me, but I know you, kind of. I know that’s how a lot of stalker-ish messages begin, but I promise I’m just your downstairs neighbor. For clarity, this is directed to the person who sings, and… plays sax I think? Not the other roommates, though I’m sure they’re lovely. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> This is out of character for me. Usually I keep to myself. I just want you to know that I like your taste in music. I’ll admit, I’ve held my phone up to the ceiling to shazam a song or two. I owe it to you that I’ve been listening to Dazey and the Scouts for the past two weeks.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It's not just that. I guess I’m trying to say thank you. This year has been lonely. I don’t have any roommates and I’m sure you know the view from our side of the building is all dumpsters and backs of buildings… sometimes it feels like I’m the only one in the entire world. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I mean, I have friends. I'm not a complete loser or anything. Maybe you even hear them, they get pretty rowdy when they come over. I’m sure it's a stark difference than the absence of noise you probably get from me. </em>
</p><p><em> This is laughably saccharine, but the reason I’m writing this is because of what I heard tonight. I thought I was the only one in the world who didn’t have a good Valentine's day. I know that’s not true, and I’m really not helping my case as a usually rational person. </em> <em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> <em> I heard you singing. I didn’t recognize it at first, and it followed such a long silence I was honestly a bit worried. Usually someone up there is making some noise. But yeah… you were singing one of my favorite songs. It could be me projecting but you sounded sad. </em></p><p>
  <em>  You don’t have to reply. This is probably really weird and you definitely have better things to do.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I just want to say I hope you’re doing okay.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Best,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Your neighbor from room 214  </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Charlie lies still for so long after they’ve read the letter that Knox gets worried and calls Neil to come home, saying something along the lines of <em> catatonic </em> and <em> drama queen </em>. It’s at this point that they laugh, and when Neil comes barrelling through the door with a handful of library books and flushed cheeks, he witnesses Charlie and Knox hysterically reading the letter to each other in hushed voices. </p><p>“What the hell is going on?” Neil pulls off his hat and his hair sticks straight up, sending Charlie and Knox into another spiral of laughter, “Are you two high? Without me again?”<br/>
<br/>
Charlie groans, wiping tears of laughter from their eyes, “I wish.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Charlie got a letter from a secret admirer,” Knox coos, shoving the letter in Neil’s face. Neil reluctantly takes it and sits, reading it over slowly. Something about his face makes Charlie uncomfortable - uncomfortable enough to start fiddling with their guitar. They notice Knox curling closer to them, picking at his fingernails. After a while, Neil looks up.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“You two are assholes, you know that right?” </p><p>Charlie defensively strums their guitar, or at least tries to. </p><p>“Come on dude, it’s a little bit funny. I mean, a letter? In the 21st century? Whoever it is could’ve just stalked me on the internet like a normal person.”<br/>
<br/>
“Well I think it’s <em> sweet </em> , Charlie. Just because everyone you go out with would rather slide into your dms doesn’t mean you have to discard the romance that just waltzed its way into your life. I mean, god, I’d love to have someone talk to me like this.”<br/>
<br/>
They stifle a giggle at this, thinking about the quiet boy in their poetry class who looks at Neil like he’s the only thing in the world. Sure Neil, you don’t have any romance. They had a running bet with Knox and Chris about how long it would take for Neil to realize. So far Charlie was winning. </p><p>“I guess,” Charlie huffs, “It’s just unexpected. I mean, why are they writing to me of all people? Why can’t they pick a senior citizen, or a pen pal from France?”<br/>
<br/>
“Didn’t you read it? They’re lonely. And you’d be kidding yourself if you didn’t admit that you are too.” </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Steven regrets leaving the letter the moment he tucks it under the “Homo Sweet Homo” doormat, but when he does a stealthy lap around the third floor a bit later, it’s nowhere to be found. Now it’s definitely too late - he has his longest day of classes to look forward to. For a bit he considers telling Ginny or Gerard about it, but decides not yet. He doesn’t even know if he’s going to get a reply. For all he knows he’s getting laughed at. </p><p>He isn’t sure why exactly he decided to leave it. It’s not like he was still drunk when he dropped it off this morning. Well, maybe he was still a little bit drunk, but he was sober enough to know it was risky, especially for him. </p><p>The “Homo Sweet Homo” doormat <em> had </em>soothed him but people are weird, and being a trans guy writing to a stranger is risky business, whether he wants to admit it or not. </p><p>He zones back in and finds himself staring at a classmate’s chipped teal nail polish. They’re talking about the poem he had to read for class and Steven has to stop a laugh because god, this person is avoiding finding any deeper meaning in the writing like his baby cousins avoid vegetables. </p><p>Steven doesn’t usually fancy himself a poetry guy. He's an environmental science major, but he needed to fulfill an art elective and Ginny is always raving about Professor Keating. So far he hasn’t been disappointed. </p><p>The nailpolish on their nails continues to chip as they struggle through the question. He feels bad that Keating won’t let up on them, Charlie, he thinks their name is? They seem much less willing to talk than their eager, Hermione Granger-esque companion. It’s not like Steven wants to talk any more than they do, of course. Poetry still takes some getting used to. </p><p>The rest of class, Steven has to pry his eyes off of Charlie. He wants to tell them that he likes their mullet, or their patch jacket, or the way they put eyeshadow under their eyes, but all of it sounds so much like disastrous flirting that he just leaves as soon as class ends. </p><p>Steven doesn’t really want to flirt with Charlie, just like he doesn’t want to flirt with most of the people who interest him in his classes. Flirting isn’t something he’s mastered, or even been a novice at. If there’s one thing he hates, its novelty. Gerard always says he’ll die a hermit somewhere in France. As if that’s an insult. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Steven is surprised when he enters Ginny and Gerard’s dorm to find Todd, a boy from his poetry class. It checks out, of course. Both Todd and the mystery roommate are extremely shy, so the two figures becoming one shouldn’t be much of a shock. Still, it feels a bit like a crossover episode. </p><p>Steven extends his hand awkwardly, “Hi, I’m Steven Meeks. I’m friends with Gerard and Ginny. You’re in my poetry class, right?” </p><p><br/>
Todd looks at his hand like it’s going to bite him, but gently shakes it, “Yeah… I'm Todd. Todd Anderson.” </p><p>“I know,” the quick response surprises both of them, “I… I mean I’m good with names. That poem you brought in for workshop the other day? It was great. You’re the best in the class, you know that right?”<br/>
<br/>
Todd blushes, “Half the class hasn’t even read yet. Including you.” </p><p>“Yeah. I’m probably gonna write about the earth dying, or plants or something. Don’t expect me to dethrone you, that’s all.”<br/>
<br/>
Gerard comes barrelling into the common room, pulling on a shirt, and Ginny slinks out from her room moments later. Todd glances at them like a nervous dog. </p><p>“Hey guys… you didn’t tell me Todd was your roommate? We have poetry together!”<br/>
<br/>
The enthusiasm falls a little flat, but it gets him a smile from Todd. He seems nice, and very, very gay, two of the main requirements Steven has when it comes to friends. </p><p>“Todd, all this time you’ve been a poet? Shut up! You’re cooler than all of us combined,” Ginny tilts her head and smiles, gap toothed and genuine. </p><p>“Are you coming with us?” Gerard nods at Todd and gestures to the door before pulling on his platform docs. As if he needs them. </p><p>“W-Where are you going?”<br/>
<br/>
“We’re going to Valeria’s. Diner a couple blocks away. You should come,” Steven says. </p><p>“Okay,” Todd seems stunned that he’s agreed, but goes to grab his coat anyways. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>After the diner, Steven feels bad for ever thinking Todd was awkwardly shy. I mean, of course he is a bit, and still needs time to fully warm up to the group, but it turns out after chugging two shirley-temples Todd is pretty friendly. Who knew a sugar high would make an introvert open up (and show them a hilarious Keating impression). </p><p>They stay at the diner for so long that eventually Steven has to excuse himself, remembering the thick stack of work waiting for him. He leaves right when Gerard starts blowing paper off of straws in an attempt to hit people in the other booths, much to Ginny and Todd’s amusement and slight embarrassment. </p><p>The walk back makes Steven wish he had remembered the gloves he knitted last year. He settles for the roomy pockets of his coat, a hand me down from Gerard. It suits Steven better anyways, a long olive green thing with patches on the elbows. Compared to Gerard’s current coat, a reflective oversized puffer, it’s a laughable difference. </p><p>Besides the cold, he likes walking around the campus. It’s nice this time of year, despite how quickly darkness overtakes everything. He wishes the cold wasn’t so biting, maybe on a different day he would’ve lapped around the fountain and made a wish. </p><p>But not today, unfortunately. Steven is reluctant to admit, even to himself, that he’s been avoiding his dorm. His bag weighs down on his shoulder, the consequence of not stopping to drop off his books before heading to Gerard and Ginny’s. </p><p>He’s trying to remain calm. In some insignificant show he had seen years ago, one of the recurring characters always said “it’s whatever, dude.” He thinks of it, minus the dude, every time he’s freaking out. It barely works, but still his brain scrambles through <em> it’s whatever it’s whatever it’s whatever it’s whatever </em> until it can find something else to focus on. </p><p>So, when he finally makes it to his doorstep a bit past nine and he can hear the bass thumping upstairs, already, and his door decorations are slightly askew, and there’s a piece of paper tucked into the doorframe, he just repeats <em>it’s whatever, it’s whatever, it’s whatever</em> until he can read the letter. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> Dear 214,  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Hi.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I’m still not completely sure this isn’t my roommate pulling my leg, or someone trying to make me pay for some random wrongdoing, so if you get this and have no idea what I’m talking about, forget this ever happened. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But, if you did write the singing kid in 314 a letter, you’re receiving a reply now, and I have a couple of questions, so consider this a snail mail q&amp;a. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Question: Did you know that you qualify your sentences a lot? Every other sentence is chock full of I guess, probably, maybe, even “It could be me projecting” …. You’ve gotta work on that, dude. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Question: Just how much did you drink before you wrote this? And don’t tell me you were sober, I know wine stains and the smell of cheap pinot noir. I think that you’d have to be drunk to find any enjoyment in the wailing that constitutes my singing voice.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Question: No roommates? What did you pull to wind up with a single? I love my roommates, but god, sharing a bathroom blows. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Question: What did you mean when you said I sounded sad? I’ll have you know that I wasn’t sad for any particular reason. I personally love spending Valentine's day alone, especially on a shitty twin sized mattress. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Question: Why is it your favorite song? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I won’t bother you anymore. I guess I owe you an answer. No, I’m not incredibly okay right now. That’s not an MCR reference though I wish it was. I just want to know, why were you lonely too? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> - 314 </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. I Wanna Hear One Song Without Thinking Of You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Steven and Charlie separately freak out, Todd is (obviously) a good listener, and Keating assigns the saddest poem of all time.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi! The title of this chapter is a reference to "Me and My Dog" by Boygenius, and the poem mentioned is "Song" by Brigit Peegan Kelly. </p>
<p>As always, if you have any questions or just want to talk about DPS feel free to follow on tumblr! Also, I have a new DPS only twitter, @dpsastiktoks, so feel free to follow and dm! </p>
<p>Thank you so much for all of the comments and kudos and reads, I appreciate y'all!! </p>
<p>Best,<br/>Han (2000regrets)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steven has to do deep breathing exercises after he reads the letter. And then he reads it again, not much calmer, but eager to find anything he’s missed. He doesn’t - find anything he’s missed, that is. Everything is there on the page, and his neighbor? pen pal? confidant? is as much of a character as they were during the first read. </p>
<p>What the hell was he thinking? Writing to a stranger? He blames the rom-coms he and Gerard binge-watched last month for poisoning his brain. Of course he wishes he was Meg Ryan in <em> Sleepless in Seattle </em>, but that was just because she ends up with dilfy Tom Hanks, not because he wants to be involved in stalkerish shenanigans. </p>
<p>So he’s panicking, and the <em> it’s whatever </em>stoner dude mantra really isn’t helping, especially when his repeated mumbles of the phrase are being drowned out by his friend upstairs singing along to Rina Sawayama. </p>
<p>Objectively, he shouldn’t write back. Right? This person is obviously a handful and asks a lot of questions, some of which are rude and most of which are prying. He doesn’t like prying, he likes having two best friends and a pet fish. <br/><br/>He’s grabbing his jacket and gloves and hat and haphazardly putting them on before he even realizes where he’s going. Halfway across campus, he realizes he probably should call Gerard and Ginny to tell them that he’s speed walking to their door thirty minutes after leaving them, but it’s too late. His earphones are screaming boygenius lyrics at him but he barely registers the noise until he flings open the worryingly unlocked door to the apartment, only to find it barren. </p>
<p>On second look, it's not completely empty. A startled Todd peeks his head out from behind the corner and visibly relaxes when he realizes it's just Steven. </p>
<p>“Are you okay?” Todd asks gently, and it’s only then that Steven realizes he's acting unhinged. </p>
<p>“Yeah I'm.. I’m good. Where’s Ginny and Gerard?” </p>
<p>“They went to a house show. Something about a band Ginny’s friend Chris is in? I don’t really do crowds, so I passed.” Todd looks him up and down, and Steven sinks onto a chair. </p>
<p>“Do you know when they’ll be home? Did they say anything about it?” <br/><br/>“Not really,” Todd replies. There’s a silence for a bit and Steven realizes that he should probably leave. It’s one thing to hang out with Todd in a group, but he doesn’t want to crowd the poor kid. He stands, and Todd speaks again. </p>
<p>“Are you… are you sure you’re okay?” <br/><br/>Steven sighs.  </p>
<p>“Honestly? I kind of accidentally wrote a letter to my neighbor who I’ve never met who sounds really cool and sad and also kind of charming? And I was drunk and way too vulnerable and kind of flirty which is totally not me by the way, and then I couldn’t get it back before they had found it and I just got home to find that they replied and I was right, they are sad and funny and charming and also an asshole and I don’t know what to do so I came here.” <br/><br/>“Do you, uh, do you want some tea?”  </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait, I still can’t get over the part where they rag on your overuse of qualifications. If they weren’t so charming in the rest of the letter I’d want to punch them,” Todd giggles, tracing the snarky words with his finger. </p>
<p>“I <em> know </em> right? What an ass,” Steven takes a sip of his second cup of tea and tries not to smile too hard at Todd’s repeated mockery of his mystery penpal. It’s weird. If you had told him this morning that he’d be drinking tea at midnight with a new friend <em> and </em> that the friend would be Todd Anderson <em> and </em>that they’d be laughing about a cliche to end all cliches, he’d think you were Gerard and also tripping on acid. </p>
<p>It turns out Todd is by far the best confidant he could’ve found when it comes to the letters. He didn’t laugh at him, like Gerard would have, and he didn’t try to force him into a decision like Ginny has a knack for. I mean, he loves both of them dearly, but their advice… isn’t always sound. </p>
<p>“So, what do you think you’re going to do? Are you gonna write back?” Todd’s question snaps him back into focus. </p>
<p>“I don’t know. I mean, you’re the real writer here. What do you think I should do?” <br/><br/>Todd blushes, “I mean, I can’t even write, let alone speak to the boy I’m interested in. So I don’t know if you want my advice.” <br/><br/>“Oh, you mean Neil? He is handsome.” <br/><br/>Todd nearly spits out his tea. “How did you? When did you,,,,” he sighs, “Is it <em> that </em> obvious?” <br/><br/>“Um,” Steven chuckles a bit, “Not to the untrained eye, I don’t think. But I’ve pined enough to know it when I see it.” <br/><br/>“Well I don’t know why you even need my advice, Mr. Perceptive. But… I think you should write back. Be genuine. It seems like they’re trying, but sarcasm is a bitch of a defense mechanism.” <br/><br/>“Thanks Todd… You should try to talk to Neil. I think he plays for our team,” Steven waggles his eyebrows and Todd groans. </p>
<p>“Do you always make dad jokes?” <br/><br/>“Get used to it.” </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>A return to Charlie’s letter appears mid afternoon. This time, it’s sealed in a light pink envelope and is addressed to 314. They can’t help but laugh at this. What a dork, who has time for envelopes? It’s 2020. </p>
<p>Charlie is glad that they’re the only one home when they find the letter. With all of the making fun that they and Knox had partook in at the expense of the letter, they didn’t necessarily want anyone to know that they’d replied. Or that the reply had been genuine. </p>
<p>Listen, they’re not a bad person. They just have a persona to uphold. And upheld it was when they confidently threw the letter in the trash the previous night. <br/><br/>No one needs to know they fished it out later. </p>
<p>Ok, so there was something about the person in the letter. They were obviously nervous, but genuine. They’ve always had a secret soft spot for that. Usually they’re just someone people date to piss off their parents, so they don’t usually encounter genuine. </p>
<p>As soon as they get the letter, they scurry back into their room and thank god it came with a lock. The letter is sealed with an overly elaborate flower sticker, and smells… nice? Whatever. </p>
<p>They open it and read, chipped nail in their mouth. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Dear 314,  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Hello to you too.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> First, I promise I’m not your roommates or a person with a vendetta or a combination of those two. I really am your neighbor, believe it or not.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> I have answers for you, but before I do, can I just say that asking that many questions on a first date won’t get you anywhere. Just a heads up.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Answer: So what? I like to qualify my sentences. Better than assuming everyone is always in agreement with me.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Answer: I drank more than I’d like to admit, but it doesn’t change what I said. I really do like your taste in music, and you’re not half bad at playing however many instruments you’ve got up there (so far i’ve counted…. three?).  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Answer: The no roommates thing is complicated. It’s less “what did I pull” and more “who I am.” Oh, and I have an overbearing mother who thought it was best for her precious son to be alone. The bathroom to myself is pretty sweet though.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Answer: What I meant was I know sad when I hear it. I don’t blame you, it’s a shitty time of year. I feel like I forget what it’s like to be warm. Do you want to talk about it? I’m all ears.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Answer: Because it’s My Funny Valentine, duh. I don’t have to enjoy the holiday to enjoy a jazz standard. The Chet Baker version is my favorite.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> I guess that I’m lonely because I feel isolated. I have friends here but I don’t know a lot of people who are like me. It’s hard, having to pass as “normal.” It’s like every class I go to I want so badly for someone to recognize me, to say “me too.” I’m too sentimental about connection. It’s like a craving that I push down. I don’t know if that makes sense.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> I hope that you’re okay soon.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Best,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> 214  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Well fuck. </p>
<p>Of course their neighbor has to be charming. They feel their chest fill with warmth and stuff the letter under their pillow before curling up in bed for another nap. </p>
<p>They’ll deal with this later. </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Before they know it, later turns into tomorrow. They want to write back, they really do. They want to write a completely cordial, emotionally uninvolved letter to their mystery neighbor, ending whatever is beginning. They just haven’t gotten the chance to yet. </p>
<p>For once they’ve woken up with the sun, and the jittery feeling in their stomach disavows sleep. It’s fine. They can just write the letter now, and then later maybe even do homework? What a concept. </p>
<p>They pull a slightly wrinkled page from a notebook and try to begin. <em> Dear 214 </em> - no, too intimate. <em> Dear neighbor, this has been nice, but I’m really a busy person and I don’t think I can constantly write to you. If you see me in the hall feel free to say hi, it’s hard to miss me. I’m the gay looking one with bleached hair and a handful of tattoos. No, not that one, the other one wearing too much blush. Anyways, thank you… </em></p>
<p>They’re on such a roll that they don’t notice Neil until he speaks. </p>
<p>“I knew it. I <em> knew </em> you didn’t think that letter was stupid. Charlie Dalton you sneaky son of a-” <br/><br/>“Have you heard of knocking?” Charlie tries to cover the squeak that enters their voice. </p>
<p>“Name one time you’ve ever knocked before entering my room. Do you remember that time last year? I still haven’t forgotten…” Neil shudders, “... Stop distracting me! You’re writing a letter to the mystery neighbor.” <br/><br/>“No, I’m not writing a <em> letter </em> , Neil. I’m simply politely declining his interest in me. I’m too busy for letters,” Charlie attempts a shrug. <br/><br/>“I live with you. You’re not too busy. Tell me what’s going on…. Who is this boy you’re talking to?” <br/><br/>“No. Mind your own business.” Charlie furrows their brow in Neil’s direction, but Neil just laughs.</p>
<p>“Mind my own business? Says the person who’s placing bets about me? Yeah, I heard about that. What is it even about?” <br/><br/>Charlie cracks and giggles a little bit. </p>
<p>“Ok, ok. Come here, stupid,” They pull Neil into their bed, and draw the earlier letter from under their pillow. </p>
<p>“Can I read it?” Neil asks, already reading it. When he finishes, he shakes his head at Charlie. </p>
<p>“I can’t believe it. You have a secret admirer and I have an empty calendar. Charlie, what’s wrong with this? He seems even nicer than before. And from the looks of this letter, your initial response wasn’t exactly cold.” <br/><br/>“I just… I don’t know. I’m not used to it. The whole, someone wanting to get to know me thing.” <br/><br/>“Well buckle up and get used to it, because I’m not letting you screw this up. Get a new piece of paper, we have a response to write before class.” <br/><br/></p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>They finish before Contemporary Poetry, and Neil personally escorts Charlie to room 214 to drop off the letter. </p>
<p>“You’re not going to regret this, I promise. And if you do… I owe you,” Neil whispers, tucking the letter under the door. <br/><br/>“You always say this, and you always owe me.” <br/><br/>To this Neil simply shrugs, and pulls them from the hallway so they won’t be late to class. </p>
<p>Waiting for Keating to get there, Charlie actually has time to do the reading. It’s <em> Song </em>by Brigit Pegeen Kelly and they hold their breath through each line. By the end of reading almost the whole thing is underlined. The person to their left notices, and laughs. </p>
<p>“Find anything you like?” </p>
<p>Charlie looks up and is met with the red head. They resist the urge to roll their eyes, especially when they realize that he’s apparently decided sitting across from them wasn’t good enough, and are now perched in the closest chair. Or maybe someone else stole his seat already, they suppose. </p>
<p>“It’s just a good poem. What’s wrong with underlining?” Charlie quips back. </p>
<p>“Nothing, nothing at all. It’s one of my favorites, actually.” <br/><br/>Charlie nods and chooses to bury their head in their phone, pretending to be engrossed in a text conversation. They’re not used to being approached. Usually they intimidate people, especially boys who wear turtlenecks and look like they interact primarily with their mothers. </p>
<p>It works out pretty well, because as soon as the red head is about to say something else, Keating walks in and the class badgers him with greetings. </p>
<p>Halfway through class, Charlie glances over at the red head’s desk and notices that he had underlined even more than they had. He even wrote his name at the top, in loop-heavy cursive. Steven. His desk is messy, almost lived in, even though he’s been in the classroom for less time than Charlie has. It’s silly, the stack of books (<em> Lolita, Beloved, </em> and an extremely dog-eared copy of <em> The Princess Diaries) </em>and an overfilled pencil case and planner with a trans pride sticker on the front. They even notice a picnic blanket peeking out of his bag. It’s like he’s planning to stay in the class for much longer than an hour. </p>
<p>Charlie feels a bit like an ass, to put it plainly. Here was one of the only other trans kids in the class trying to befriend them, and instead of being normal they just thought he was flirting with them. As if. Guys like Steven do extra credit assignments and wear color coordinated outfits. People like him don’t go for people like Charlie. </p>
<p>They really need to get back to therapy.   </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. It Can't Be Ignored</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Todd still has a sweet tooth, Steven admits he has a crush, and Charlie serenades Steven - kind of. </p>
<p>Oh, and they watch Pretty Little Liars.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a shorter chapter only from Steven's POV, besides Charlie's initial letter. </p>
<p>The title is a lyric from "Shut Up Kiss Me" by Angel Olsen.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear 214, </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Thank you for writing back. You’re right, I have a knack for asking too many questions. It’s just a quirk of mine. Get used to it. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>First of all, it’s four instruments. Guitar, bass, sax, and a little bit of drums. The drums don’t fit in my dorm though, and neither of my roommates thought we had enough space in the common area, so they stayed at home, halfway across the state. Boo. Where’s home for you? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I have to say, you have a knack for generating more questions with your answers. What do you mean,“the kind of person you are?” Tell me more, I'm curious. </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>I can start, if that makes it easier for you. I understand what you mean, about feeling like an outsider (probably not in the way you meant it). I’m a loud mouth, I have a handful of tattoos and most of them are bad. I like to write poetry but I don’t let anyone see it. I’m nonbinary. I have a good relationship with my mom (shocking, I know). </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>My best friend had to force me to write back to you. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I was scared. I guess I still am scared. I’ve never even had a diary, let alone written to a stranger. That might be part of why I was sad when you first wrote to me. I don’t know. I just feel like I’ll never get to celebrate Valentine's day. Don’t tell anyone this, but I want to, desperately. I usually don’t come off as that sort of person. My senior superlative was most flirty, you know? It’s just not a holiday made for me. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I know what you meant, about forgetting what it's like to feel warm. I’ll play some songs tonight with you in mind. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Your friend, </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>314 </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Steven spends a moment staring into space after reading, then sits to start slowly highlighting his favorite parts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a little weird, yeah. He knows that perhaps it gives off serial killer vibes to dissect letters like this, but he does this with all of his favorite books. What’s the difference? </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Maybe there is a difference, but he doesn’t want to think about that right now. Instead, he picks a light blue highlighter and takes care to find his favorite words. The last section gets stars in the margins too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He would be lying if he didn’t admit that his heart skipped a beat at the perceived intimacy of the last line. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>your friend</span>
  </em>
  <span>? It’s almost too much for Steven to digest. He’s not one for interacting with a crush, even indirectly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He guesses he has to confess that this might be a crush, at least to himself. It’s been a while since attraction or butterflies or any semblance of romance towards someone has stuck. He sighs to himself, thinking of his brief stints with high school boyfriends and the </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely </span>
  </em>
  <span>brief crush he had on Gerard the first week he’d known him. It’s rare for him to actually be interested in someone, is what he’s trying to say. Maybe that’s why it took him this long to understand these letters as romantic. At least on his end. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he’s done rereading the letter, he packs his backpack to make the trek over to the trio’s apartment. They’re doing their semi-annual group study session. He’s glad Todd has joined in because he’s been extremely stumped on what to write for Keating’s class. It’s weird, he realizes, not to live with his closest (and only) friends. Next year he’ll probably find himself living with them, but right now he can stand the loneliness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as he enters the apartment, he makes a beeline for Todd’s room. Poetry can wait. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knocks and Todd’s voice beckons him in. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>It’s his first time being </span>
  <em>
    <span>in </span>
  </em>
  <span>Todd’s room. It’s a stark contrast to the lack of care both Ginny and Gerard have for interior decorating. His walls are covered in pages of books (mostly shitty romance novels, from the looks of it) and Todd has written all over the pages. Everything, even his bedspread, is color coordinated - soft greens and browns. There’s a non offensive candle lit and a Talking Heads album is playing from a cheap record player. Steven almost laughs - how had they not become friends sooner? </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Todd is blushing a bit, which Steven finds weird, until he realizes the blush isn’t directed at him, but Todd’s phone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey… what’s going on?” Steven leans against his bed and tries not to peer over at his phone. Todd pats his bed and he sits, leaning against the book wall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing.. Just talking to someone. It’s nothing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steven raises an eyebrow, “Who?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You can write on the pages if you want,” Todd says quietly, pointing to what must be a page from a goodwill copy of twilight. Steven smiles and pulls a pen from his bag, doodling over Edward and Bella meeting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you gonna read me the letter?” Todd continues. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steven allows himself to look closer at Todd’s phone and notices long blocks of text. He squints, attempting to read the words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only if you tell me who you were texting.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Todd’s blush deepens, “By the look on your face you already know. It’s not fair.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If we’re gonna be friends you have to deal with my </span>
  <em>
    <span>incredible </span>
  </em>
  <span>perception. It’s just the way it is,” Steven finishes the doodle, moving on to another page, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But I'm here when you’re ready.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I did it. Kind of. I…. I asked for Neil’s number. For study purposes only,” Todd seems surprised again when he says this, and Steven imagines the initial surprise he must have felt during the interaction itself. Poor Todd. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Todd! That’s great. Can I see the texts?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Todd hands him his phone, shrugging. Steven scrolls and becomes wide eyed at the incredibly blatant flirting from both parties. He’s not shocked at all that Neil is this charismatic, but Todd… using heart emojis? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Todd…. You’re joking. He’s so into you.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Todd shakes his head and takes his phone back, “I don’t know, I’m probably not even his type.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“There’s no way in hell he’s straight. He literally asked you what you’re doing later! Not to mention, in class he said his favorite poet is Ocean Vuong.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not like that. He wouldn’t go for someone like me. Show me the letter.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Steven sighs and pulls the letter from his pocket, “This conversation isn’t over. Here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>highlighted </span>
  </em>
  <span>it?? Oh Steven…” Todd leans back and reads the letter, smiling to himself. Steven takes this time to fiddle with his phone case and read the spines lining Todd’s bookshelf. He seems to read a lot of classics, and half of them are lined with post-its. There’s a box of discount valentine candy on the dresser and a beat up desk set, vintage probably, and hey, there’s even a poetry themed wall calendar. It’s cozy, and he wants to make notes for his future decorating plans. Ok, so maybe he’s trying really hard to focus on anything but the letter, and what Todd thinks of it. It’s still a nice room. Finally, Todd places a hand on his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re inviting me to your room tonight.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What? I mean, Todd you’re always welcome but I seriously doubt you want to. It’s half the size of your closet, I swear.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steven. You’re not avoiding this for a study session. We can make some excuses to Gerard and Ginny. This person is practically serenading you! This is a date, and I’ll be damned if I don’t live vicariously through this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are literally nothing like I expected, Anderson,” Steven huffs and looks at his watch, “We can still study for a bit though. You’re not getting out of helping me with poetry that easily.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>After letting Todd attempt to teach him iambic pentameter for twenty minutes and then spending an hour helping Ginny with her chemistry homework, Steven is almost happy to be walking through the drizzle back to his dorm with Todd. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard and Ginny were a little confused as to why they weren’t invited, but Todd is apparently a good enough liar to convince them that the pair would be having a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pretty Little Liars </span>
  </em>
  <span>marathon. This is enough to throw them off for now, but Ginny gave him a look that absolutely meant he owes her a text explaining himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can already hear what she’s going to say, that Todd is a really nice guy and a good friend but that they’re absolutely not “written in the stars” or something like that. She’d probably pull out their birth charts to highlight all of the reasons why. What a virgo. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steven can’t really blame her though. He barely hangs out with anyone besides the two of them, so any addition is bound to raise questions. Thank god she doesn’t know about the </span>
  <em>
    <span>real </span>
  </em>
  <span>interloper, whom she’d undoubtably disapprove of. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Todd and Steven are sharing earphones and turning the corner when Todd slows his pace, inadvertently yanking the earbud out of Steven’s ear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is your building?” Todd looks queasy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I thought you knew I live in Hollis,” Steven scans his ID and motions for Todd to come through the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t…” Todd gets quiet and Steven lets the realization dawn on him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So Neil lives in Hollis too?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Maybe,” Todd mumbles, dragging his feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well maybe we’ll just run into him,” Steven shrugs as they trudge up the far too narrow stairwell, dodging oncoming traffic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t it weird?” Todd whispers, “Any of those people could be who you’re writing to. Do you ever try to figure it out?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Steven doesn’t know how to answer, because in all honesty, he’s not sure he wants to find out. At least not yet. There’s something about them being a mystery that’s nice. Safe. Sure, every once in a while he’ll catch a glance of someone at the vending machine and think </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but he barely knows this person. It’s probably not going to be anything more than a fleeting penpal arrangement, and that’s fine. Why get his hopes up? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not really.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Steven and Todd make it to Steven’s room, Todd sits gingerly on the end of the bed until Steven beckons him over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on. It’s gonna be a long night. They usually don’t start wailing until 10 or 11. You didn’t think you could joke around about </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pretty Little Liars </span>
  </em>
  <span>and not watch at least one episode, right?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You asshole.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s three hours later and Steven is trying to hold back his amusement at Todd being more into the antics of the pretty little liars than conducting an actual “stakeout,” as he’d been calling it. Steven isn’t quite sure what makes it a stakeout, considering they’re in his room and they’re not even investigating a crime, but Todd raids his stash of candy and is back on the job soon enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a loud announcement of a bluetooth speaker connecting upstairs, and Todd nudges him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Shut Up Kiss Me </span>
  </em>
  <span>by Angel Olsen starts blaring, which seems to answer his question. Steven just smiles sheepishly. It’s a funny first choice for a song supposedly shared between them. If he were more naive, he’d think they were flirting with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god Steven, they’re totally flirting with you,” Todd says halfway through the song. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steven scoffs, “They are not flirting with me. This is just a good song! They don’t even know me.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“They’re trying to get to know you… It’s sweet. And definitely flirting.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Says the boy who gets triple texted by Neil Perry and thinks it’s a strictly platonic interaction,” Steven leans back and rolls his eyes. Having this mystery in his life is nice, but he doesn’t want to kid himself. Crush or not, he’s probably just making a new friend. It’s totally normal and not the plot to a million kitchy romantic comedies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, so maybe it was a bit more than friendly,” Todd admits, “Nice avoidance tactic by the way…. I have an idea.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Does it involve any effort on my part?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Steven, this is flirting, of course it involves effort. I think… you should play music back.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Like a response?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Yeah. Like a date.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You’re so bold when it’s not involving your life,” Steven groans, “Okay. What should I play? And how do I know they’ll even listen?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Play something that reminds you of them and they’ll listen.” </span>
  <span></span>
    <br/>
  
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Steven connects his phone to the shitty speaker Gerard left in his room, and turns the volume up, waiting for the song upstairs to come to an end. There’s a drop into silence, and Steven hits play, holding his breath a bit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. I Went Out in the Rain, Suddenly Everything Changed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Charlie and Steven are fools and they're falling for each other.</p><p>Also, Anderperry are conspiratorial best friends on a mission (and also are fools falling for each other, but that's another story).</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this chap is dedicated to the lovely emma, thank you for being a friend and supporting my work :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Neil…… Neil get in here.” </p><p>Charlie yanks Neil from the common room and shuts the door, before sinking down to the ground. </p><p>“Do you hear that??” They point to the tile and the slightly muffled sound. </p><p>Neil finishes eating the toast in his hand and nods slowly, “Yeah Charlie, the whole apartment can hear it. So?” </p><p>Charlie wants to punch him when they see the edge of a smile creeping onto his face. Of course he knows why Charlie is freaking out. For a while it had felt like they were writing to a vast nothingness, with replies appearing from thin air, but the music coming from downstairs begs to differ.<br/><br/>The last letter they wrote has only spent a handful of hours in the possession of their penpal, and already they’re anxious for a reply. They’ve never been the most patient person. Maybe it’s why they decided to escalate the situation with the curated music. They just didn’t expect him to play anything back. </p><p>“Don’t play this game with me Perry. Did you put him up to this?” </p><p>“Put him up to serenading you back? No…. wish I did though, it’s a genius idea. Really puts a damper on your control issues.” </p><p>“It is <em> not </em>serenading, we’re simply two strangers sharing songs. It’s like following a random Spotify playlist…. And control issues? How cruel.”</p><p>“Yeah, a random Spotify playlist made specifically for you with only the most yearn-worthy ballads of all time…. is this…” Neil crouches down and listens “... is this <em> First Day of my Life </em>?” </p><p>“Yes,” Charlie whines, “Help me.” </p><p>“Charlie, I know what help me means, and I am not helping you avoid your feelings, partially because I like to see you squirm but mostly because deep down you know you’ll thank me for this one day.” </p><p>“There are no feelings to be had. Honestly, I just feel bad for the guy because he’s probably getting the wrong idea. I was just trying to be nice, I mean maybe flirt a little, but Bright Eyes? Right off the bat?” </p><p>Charlie leans into the shadow of the room to conceal their blush. Fuck. A crush? A real live crush? In this economy?<br/><br/>They hate to even think it, but there’s that warm feeling slinking through their chest. A crush on someone they’ve never even met. They would be lying if they said they weren’t critical of this, just like most unmanageable feelings that they come across. But they can’t stop thinking about him, about the way that he had told them that he’s <em> sentimental about connection. </em> What a dork. </p><p>Neil moves closer, “I have an idea.”<br/><br/>“No.” </p><p>“It’s not a bad one, Charlie. I promise.”<br/><br/>“What does it involve? Roses and a candlelit dinner? That seems more up your alley,” Charlie says. </p><p>“You should give him your number. I feel like it might speed things up a bit, you know?”<br/><br/>“My number?” Charlie pauses, and sits on the floor with Neil to hear the song better, “I thought the whole romantic appeal of this to you was the letter writing… not that it’s romantic to me.”<br/><br/>“I don’t know, when it’s with the right person even texting is nice,” Neil scratches his neck, and Charlie catches a glimpse of an awkward smile. They’ve seen Neil have a crush approximately twice before, rare occasions where he lets someone past his boisterous demeanor. This is how it starts, the uncharacteristic shyness creeping in. Charlie smiles like they’ve caught a mouse for dinner, and plays dumb. </p><p>“Neil… What do you mean by the right person? Did you meet someone? Are you holding out on me?”<br/><br/>“If I tell you, will you give your number to him?”<br/><br/>“Okay, but I’m not going down there. You have to deliver it.”<br/><br/>“Fine,” Neil sighs, grabbing a scrap of paper and handing it to Charlie. </p><p>Charlie grabs a sharpie and scrawls out <em> Hey 214, nice song. Maybe you could suggest some more? 213-555-2563 , Best, 314  </em></p><p>“Is that good? Does it sound too cocky?” Charlie regrets saying the last part but it’s already out of their mouth, a wavering tone betraying them. If Neil catches it, he’s nice enough not to press them about it. That’s the difference between two of them, Charlie guesses. Neil knows when to let them be. </p><p>Neil reads it and stands, “It sounds great. Very true to yourself. Pick another song and I’ll go deliver this.”<br/><br/>“Okay… let me know if anything happens,” Charlie says, pretending to be more interested in their phone as Neil closes the door. They scroll through their Spotify playlists and try not to imagine Neil skipping down the stairwell gleefully. If they’re being honest with themself, the leverage of learning about Neil’s potential crush doesn’t mean much to them. They’re still distracted. They don’t want to have to wait for this stranger to make another move of whatever game they’ve been playing together. </p><p>It’s weird, Charlie realizes, to not be in complete control. Usually they’re the orchestrator of events. The flirter, not the flirted with. In high school Knox used to make them proofread his lame attempts to dm people way out of his league. </p><p>It was jarring to have someone want to write to them in the first place, especially without knowing anything about them. Well, maybe this stranger knows something about them now, but surely not enough to want to flirt with them. </p><p>Neil comes bursting back into the room. </p><p>“Charlie. Charlie you’re not going to believe it,” Neil’s smiling, and the paper is gone from his hand, which makes them want to vomit. </p><p>“What?” Charlie’s finger slips and suddenly <em> Venus as a Boy </em>is blaring through their speakers. So much for a thoughtful response. </p><p>“I slid it halfway under the door, and someone took it! They took it! I yelled delivery and everything... Do you think I should apply to do singing telegrams?” </p><p>“You <em> yelled delivery </em> ? God you’re lucky you’re cute. Was there any noise or anything?”<br/><br/>“I-I don’t think so…. It was quiet.”<br/><br/>“If this ends up being a mistake you owe me big time.”<br/><br/>“Your pride will recover Dalton, I promise.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Steven..” Todd whispers when the knock first sounds, “Were you expecting anyone?”<br/><br/>Steven shakes his head, afraid to make any noise. There’s another knock, and then he hears it, a bright voice.<br/><br/>“Delivery from 314! Delivery!”<br/><br/>Steven giggles and Todd creeps closer to the door. Steven pulls him back. </p><p>“What if it’s them?” He hisses at Todd. </p><p>“So what? Do you want me to talk to them?” Todd points to the peephole. </p><p>Steven hesitates. It’s not that he doesn’t want to meet whoever is on the other side of the letters. It just seems too soon, and besides, he hasn’t washed his hair in forever and is wearing his worst pair of jeans. It’s just not the day for him. Todd, however, is eager, and Steven supposes he can let him have some fun on his behalf. </p><p>“You can go out there and talk to them… But don’t say anything about me. Tell them you’re my friend, and just…. Figure out the general details, if you can?”<br/><br/>He nods, “Ok. I can do that. Go hide in the bathroom, I’ll be back in a minute.”<br/><br/>Steven walks into the bathroom and shuts the door gently, listening to the song ending on his speakers and the steady drip of the faucet. This is so silly, so juvenile. He feels like he’s in a period romance full of B-list actors. It’s exciting, he admits to himself, to feel wanted in whatever capacity this is. </p><p>He’s surprised when it takes Todd a bit to come back, and almost debates going out to look for him. Just when he lifts himself from the cool tile, Todd opens the bathroom door. </p><p>“It wasn’t them.”<br/><br/>Steven raises an eyebrow at the grin on Todd’s face, but lets it go. </p><p>“If it wasn’t them, who was it? What did they want?”<br/><br/>“It was their roommate. I don’t think he was lying. He wanted to give you something, on behalf of your penpal,” Todd presses a scrap of paper into his hand. </p><p>“I don’t get it. It was my turn to write a letter, why are they…” Steven trails off as he reads the note. He resists the urge to blush. </p><p>“Who said romance is dead,” Todd mumbles, his cheeks redder than Steven’s. </p><p>“I… I don’t know what to do. Everyone says flirting is like riding a bicycle but I’m notoriously shit at riding bicycles.” </p><p>“Just say hi. Hi doesn’t hurt anybody.”<br/><br/></p><hr/><p>
  <b>S: Hi. Is this the person from 314?</b>
</p><p><em> C: The one and only. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking to? </em> <em><br/></em> <em><br/></em> <b>S: It’s your neighbor </b></p><p>
  <b>From 214.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>You can call me S, if you want. </b>
</p><p>
  <em> C: So formal…. You can call me C then.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You still owe me a letter, S. Don’t think texting absolves you from your duty  </em>
</p><p><b>S: You didn’t give me much turnaround time</b> <b><br/></b> <b>I could be busy for all you know. </b></p><p>
  <em> C: Yet here you are listening to music with me.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Nice pick, by the way. Surprising coming from you.  </em>
</p><p><b>S: Bright Eyes is surprising to you? </b> <b><br/></b> <b>You listen to Better Oblivion Community Center all the time. </b></p><p><em> C: Wow, stalker much????? </em> <em><br/></em> <em> Jk, jk.  </em></p><p><em> How’s your night going? </em> <em><br/></em> <em><br/></em> <b>S: If anyone is the stalker it's you, with your delivery boy. </b></p><p><b>And my night is good. My friend and I were eagerly awaiting your concert. You gonna play anything or is it all from your speaker? </b> <b><br/></b> <b><br/></b> <em> C: What’ll u give me if I play something for u?  </em></p><p>
  <em> Sorry that sounded way less creepy in my head </em>
</p><p>
  <b>S: Damn, that’s a hard question….</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Depends on what you want. </b>
</p><p>
  <em> C: I’ll play you a song if you answer some more questions for me.  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>S: I feel so special. Am I allowed to ask you questions back? </b>
</p><p>
  <em> C: Yeah, if they’re good q’s.  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>S: I’ll try not to disappoint. </b>
</p><p>
  <em> C: Ok, here’s my question: Why did you write to me, specifically? I’m sure your other neighbors are loud.  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>S: Oh, you mean my business major neighbors or my sweet quiet stem girl neighbor?? Lol, neither of them even come close to being as interesting as you. </b>
</p><p><em> C: Interesting? </em> <em><br/></em> <em> Say more  </em></p><p>
  <b>S: Well, you know. You just have nice… vibes? </b>
</p><p>
  <b>And you’re loud </b>
</p><p>
  <em> C: Gee thanks </em>
</p><p>
  <b>S: I didn’t mean it in a bad way!! </b>
</p><p>
  <b>It’s nice. Living in a single is usually really quiet so it’s a welcome change. Though the Rage Against The Machine isn’t always my fave. </b>
</p><p>
  <em> C: Then what is your fave?  </em>
</p><p><b>S: Am I a gay cliche if I say Mitski?</b> <b><br/></b></p><p>
  <em> C: Yes but I understand.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Are you going to ask me a question?  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>S: Hmmmm… let me think </b>
</p><p>
  <em> C: I’ll be waiting patiently </em>
</p><p><b>S: Why did you give me your number?</b> <b><br/></b></p><p>
  <em> C: Oh, strictly business. Just thought it would be easier to arrange letter sending to a stranger if I had his phone number.  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>S: has anyone ever told you that your sarcasm knows no end</b>
</p><p>
  <em> C: I’ve heard it once or twice. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> If I’m being honest, it’s because I wanted to talk to you </em>
</p><p>
  <em> In a quicker way than we’d been talking before.  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>S: Oh</b>
</p><p>
  <b>I’m glad </b>
</p><p>
  <em> C: I have to go to bed </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Early morning tomorrow  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>S: You still owe me a song, don’t think I forgot</b>
</p><p>
  <b>I’ll hassle you about it tomorrow </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Goodnight C </b>
</p><p>
  <em> C: You still owe me a letter </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Night S  </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>y'all, texts are so hard to write. </p><p>this is a bit of a shorter chapter. i'm currently playing catch up writing wise. a new semester just started so i'm still getting used to doing a shit ton of homework, and figuring out when my free time is. </p><p>the title is a line from first day of my life by bright eyes! </p><p>also, here's a link to a playlist i made for this fic that has a bunch of the songs mentioned/alluded to. this is what i listen to when i write, and it'll probably grow as i write more. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/75ALtYO0zcJDHlaDMcZmu5?si=2tgL6AXASIOjDciXbelfmw </p><p>if you wanna talk about dps, my tumblr is @letitfillyoursoul (new username across all platforms, yay!!) </p><p>thank you again to everyone reading !!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat (Grow Faster)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Knox is a himbo BFF, Everyone thinks Todd and Steven are sleeping together, and Charlie dunks on Lana Del Rey.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is shorter, but a pretty big party chapter is coming up! Get excited :P </p><p>Also yes the title is from Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy cause that song was made for Charlie.</p><p>The poem they’re referencing is Mountain Dew Commercial Disguised as a Love Poem by Matthew Olzmann</p><p>Also, realized that Todd and Steven have Sandy and Frenchie vibes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charlie doesn’t go to bed, actually. Instead they scream into their pillow and then pad across the dorm to knock on Knox’s door, regrettably. </p><p>“Knoxious?” They try to keep their voice low. A moment later a sleepy Knox opens his door. He looks them up and down, and Charlie tries to hide their stress. Immediately, they regret even waking Knox up. In this split second, they try to brainstorm ways to salvage this interaction. Maybe ask to play minecraft? Help Knox with his bumble profile? </p><p>“What’s wrong Charlie?”<br/><br/>Fuck. </p><p>Knox may be a himbo at times but he’s also the only person besides Neil who can see beyond the Charlie Dalton facade, as they like to call it. It’s not that they mean to be fake. That’s not what it is. It’s protective armor, almost. It’s a certain <em> don’t fuck with me </em>energy they’ve cultivated. It’s as fake as it is helpful. </p><p>Charlie feels their face crumple a little bit, “I have a crush on someone.”<br/><br/>“Wow, I’m flattered babe, but you know I’m not interested,” Knox giggles at his own joke and before they know it he’s pulling them into a hug, “Is it the letter boy?”<br/><br/>“How did you know?” Charlie groans and presses their face into Knox’s shoulder. </p><p>“Dude, you’re the loudest person I know. We live together.”<br/><br/>They huff at this, and pull away from Knox’s hug, inviting themself into his room. They make their way through the thin layer of dirty laundry on the floor and flop onto Knox’s bed. </p><p>“How do you deal with it? You have crushes, like, all the time…. How do you cope?”<br/><br/>“Char, I don’t get it. What about your hundreds of tinder dates?”</p><p><br/>“That’s fake. I mean, not fake… what I mean is it’s not real. I never expect it to last. I never let it go further. This…” Charlie trails off. </p><p>Knox walks over and sits beside them, “You want it to go further?”<br/><br/>“I didn’t say that. I…. I just feel stupid. I like someone I’ve never met. I don’t even know what he looks like.”<br/><br/>“It’s not stupid, it’s sweet. You deserve to be happy.” </p><p>“Thanks Knox. So do you.”<br/><br/>They’re both quiet for a while, Knox resting his head on Charlie’s shoulder. They’ve always been this close, and sometimes Charlie wishes that they could’ve just chosen someone they already know, like Knox or Neil, to fall in love with. It seems easier. They know it doesn’t work that way and given the amount of dirty socks on Knox’s floor they’re glad their relationship is strictly platonic. But familiarity is easier than whatever unknown territory they’ve found themself in. </p><p>Knox points at the neon pink alarm clock on his desk, “Go to bed, dummy. It’s 2am.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Steven wakes up to a phone ringing, which wouldn’t necessarily be weird, except it’s not his phone. Opening his eyes, he realizes that Todd is spooning him, snoring lightly in his ear. How sweet. Steven wriggles out of Todd’s grasp and grabs his phone. He debates whether he should wake him up, given that it’s his phone and all, but sees the contact name and picks up without even thinking about it. </p><p>“Hey Pittsie,” Steven answers, stifling a yawn. He hears a slight intake of breath and suddenly it clicks that his answering Todd’s phone <em> really </em>doesn’t help with Ginny and Gerard’s whole “are Todd and Steven dating because they interact as friends and both like men?” thing. Great.</p><p>“Meeks? Are you… with Todd?” </p><p>“Yeah, we had a sleepover,” Steven pauses and noticed Todd rustle awake, mumbling<em> it was a stakeout. </em> He continues, “He just woke up, do you wanna talk to him?” </p><p>Before Gerard can even answer Steven shoves the phone into Todd’s hand, and listens as Todd mumbles answers about some elaborate party Gerard wants to host at the apartment tonight. He<em> also </em> listens as Ginny catches wind of the conversation and asks slyly if Todd’s going to bring Steven as a date, to which Todd and Steven laugh their asses off. Todd kind of pulls the “let gay people be friends” card at this and Ginny sheepishly retreats, but not before pleading with both of them to <em> please </em>come because she’s inviting a ton of her theater and theater adjacent friends. Todd hands the phone back to Steven at this point. </p><p>“Ginny, will you stop bugging Todd and I if we come to your party?” Steven grumbles, running his hands through his hair. </p><p>“Well Todd doesn’t really have a choice because it’s at his own apartment, but I guess.” </p><p>Steven can imagine her smirking through the phone. </p><p>“Chris is gonna be there, and she’s bringing some friends,” Ginny exhales dreamily and Steven scoffs. Todd shoves him slightly and takes the phone.</p><p>“We’ll be there Ginny…. not as a couple,” Todd adds quickly, “but we’ll be there.” </p><p>After Gerard spends five minutes rambling about an old radio he found that he wants Steven to check out, they find an excuse to end the phone call. For a moment Steven just sits there, before lying back down in bed. </p><p>“God…. I was worried about hiding my mystery friend from Ginny and Gerard, but now I have to convince them that we’re not boning?” </p><p>Todd laughs a bit at this, “Why’s it such an insult? I’d like to think I’m a catch.” </p><p>“Yeah, you’re a catch for Neil Perry. I heard you two on the phone last night…. just cause I had earphones in doesn’t mean I can’t hear, you know.” </p><p>“It’s nothing…. well, it’s not nothing. But I’m not even sure if he’s single.”</p><p>“Who would he be dating? If it’s not on his Instagram, it’s not official.” </p><p>“I don’t know, him and that Charlie kid from class seem pretty close…” Todd trails off, “... I’m not sure they’re his type though.” </p><p>“Charlie? They’re kind of self important. I tried talking to them the other day, and it was like I killed their cat or something.” </p><p>Todd nods noncommittally at this and makes himself busy with his phone. After a while he looks up. </p><p>“We should get ready and go to class. Can I borrow some clothes?” </p><p>Steven nods, “Only if you let me style you.” </p><p>An hour later Steven and Todd walk into Contemporary Poetry both wearing what looks like the winter wardrobe of an underpaid, extremely gay TA. Steven notices Neil sitting in the corner, surrounded by half the class, telling a story that involves a lot of hand gestures. He has a familiar voice, with a comforting lilt to it. Steven can see why Todd likes him. He nudges Todd, who’s looking down at his converse</p><p>“We’re sitting next to Neil today.” </p><p>Todd visibly pales, and leans closer to Steven, whispering, “Steven I swear to god if you-“ </p><p>Steven doesn’t let him finish before he loops his arm through Todd’s and waltzes his merry way over to the clump of students hanging on to Neil’s every word. Neil’s focus is broken as soon as he sees Todd. It’s sweet, really, the way that he loses his storytelling ability so quickly. He gives Todd a look that screams <em> sit next to Neil you fool </em>, and before Todd can even move Neil speaks. </p><p>“Hey, you two sitting with us today?” </p><p>Todd smiles, “Yeah. Is that ok?” </p><p>“Of course!” Neil jumps up and takes his backpack off of the seat next to him, “You can sit here. And your friend-“ He searches Steven’s face for a name.</p><p>“Steven” </p><p>“Steven! I knew that. Steven you can sit there,” He points to a chair two seats away and Steven sees bleach blonde hair covered by a ridiculously large pair of headphones. Charlie. Great. Steven just nods and sits down quietly, pulling out a book to read before class. A couple minutes pass before a voice interrupts him. </p><p>“What do you think?” </p><p>He looks up to see Charlie staring intently at the cover of the book, where a knobby kneed girl stands, cowering. It’s his favorite cover of <em> Lolita </em>, one of the only ones that refuses to take Humbert’s side. </p><p>“Of the book? I think it’s wonderful. Hard, but an important book nonetheless. Have you read it?” Steven asks slowly, unsure whether he should dog ear the page or not. </p><p>“I tried once or twice but I don’t think I was old enough. You know, being 14 and thinking you’re cool for liking Lana Del Rey doesn’t necessarily mean you’re ready for Nabakov,” Charlie chuckles at their own quip, and Steven breaks into a small smile. </p><p>“Oh, yeah. It’s probably good you didn’t read it that young. Lana doesn’t necessarily paint the whole picture,” Steven looks over at Charlie’s desk and notices how comparably barren it is to his. There’s a pencil, normally tucked behind their ear, the poetry they’re discussing in class today, and a small black notebook covered in stickers. Steven points to the one with the nonbinary flag, “I like that sticker.” </p><p>Charlie giggles, “Oh yeah, I have PFLAG parents so these just pop up everywhere I go, it seems. It’s their superpower and my worst nightmare.” </p><p>Steven wants to respond but before he can open his mouth, the lights flicker on and off. Keating is here, and he’s extra peppy today, weaving through the desks and greeting everyone. </p><p>He turns away from Charlie and tries to listen as Keating introduces the poem they’re talking about today. He does like this poem, but he hasn’t really had a chance to think about last night. </p><p>Last night. He’s not usually romantic, at least not when thinking about his own options, but god, C is charming. He’s kind of embarrassed over how… enamored? No… interested, he is. But he can’t really blame himself. No one’s ever talked to him this way. He resists the urge to look at his phone right then and there. Out of respect for Professor Keating he keeps his hands folded under his chin.<br/><br/>Next to him, Charlie is doing an elaborate drawing of Keating drinking a can of Mountain Dew. It’s fitting, given the poem they’re discussing. Steven holds back a giggle, and when class ends, he’s almost sad to see Neil whisk Charlie out of class without as much of a second glance in Todd’s (or his) direction.<br/><br/>Steven goes home and spends his free time writing back to C, rather than engaging with the mountain of homework abandoned on his desk. After a solid hour of rewrites, it’s perfect. Or, as perfect as he can make it. As he tucks it under the door of 314, he checks his phone. He isn’t sure whether he should text first, or wait for them to make the first move. It’s all new to him. Scurrying back down the stairs, he decides just to leave it up to C. He has a party to get ready for anyways. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> Dear C,  </em>
</p><p><em> Long time no see. Or, write I guess. </em> <em><br/></em> <em><br/></em> <em> I want to say thank you, for making the first move last night. I know I was the one who started this whole thing, but I really thought I was just being a nuisance. I guess I was wrong.  </em></p><p>
  <em> I hope I proved myself to you as not having a shit taste in music. I already knew that you had good taste, though I will admit the One Direction is a bit excessive at times.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You asked me to elaborate on the “kind of person I am.” I guess I was being a bit dramatic when I wrote that. I’m a bit shy at first. Home is here, in Pennsylvania. My friends call me a hermit, but personally I think that once you find a place you like, why not stay there? I guess my place is kind of my room. I’m bisexual. At my parents house I have two cats named Luke and Leia. My best friend has a cat named Han Solo. Hm, what else? When I was 12 I broke my leg in a zip lining accident and had exactly three signatures on my cast. That’s telling. My favorite artist is Felix Gonzalez-Torres. I love his piece “Perfect lovers”.  If I could have anything in the world, I think I would really selfishly wish to be taller.  </em>
  <br/>
  <em><br/>There’s more, if you want to know. You should tell me more about yourself. When did you realize you were nonbinary? Can I read one of your poems? What do your tattoos look like (or is that cheating)? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I was wondering if tomorrow you wanted to watch the sunset together, from our respective rooms? It might be nice. Just text me and let me know. I’ll be kind of busy tonight, but I can make time for you.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Best,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> S  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Baby As Soon As You Meet Me, You'll Wish That You Never Did</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Charlie goes to a party. Chaos ensues. </p><p>Part one of the party, part two will be from Steven's POV &lt;3</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>yes the title is from a halsey song. yes that song is eerily similar to this chapter. no i didn't plan this, i was just a halsey stan in my teens and my brain absorbed her lyrics like a sponge. </p><p>anyways hi i've been yelling about this everywhere but i changed my tumblr to tellmewhytheyswoon.tumblr.com so if you would like to follow me that's where you can do that (pls i crave attention). </p><p>this chap is really dear to my heart because i, like charlie, have a complicated relationship with parties. i hope u like it!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charlie rushes home from their classes at the end of the day for several reasons. The main one is definitely that they want to get ready for the party they’re going to tonight. Their friend Chris kept bugging them all yesterday to go with her. She pulled the “please come meet my new girlfriend” card, and Charlie’s new years resolution was to be less flaky so they agreed. </p><p>They really do like parties, but they’ve been so preoccupied thinking about classes, and practicing guitar, and playing songs for a (presumably) pretty boy. They haven’t been out in a while. </p><p>Chris and Neil had been bothering Charlie to play with them at one of their gigs for ages now. That’s actually how Chris and Ginny had met, Ginny had been running the merch table for another far more shitty band and ended up befriending Neil, and then Chris. Ginny and Neil figured out they were both theater majors, and the rest is history. </p><p>Charlie feels kind of bad for being out of the loop, but the truth is, when they’re not orchestrating events, they feel a bit… shy? It used to be that all of the parties were hosted at their house, since their parents were never home. They feel old now, out of touch. Just the fact that Neil goes out far more than they do sends a shiver up their spine. </p><p>Enough is enough, they decide. They’re going to this party and they’re going to be a goddamn delight. </p><p>They round the corner, and a letter is poking out from under the doormat. They expected S to write back, but not this quickly. It’s a welcome surprise. They’d been waiting all day for him to text, or call, or even send them a request to play imessage pool, but they hadn’t heard a word until the pale blue envelope. </p><p>They rush inside and sit on their kitchen counter, reading the letter several times over before opening their phone. They can’t stop thinking about the last part of the letter. The invitation to watch the sunset? Who is this, Bob Ross? <br/><br/>It’s adorable, and before they know it they’re texting S. <em> You better not have made any plans for tomorrow night. Sunset date is on. </em> They send it without thinking, and then reread the message. </p><p>Date. They said date. Charlie groans and calls out for Neil. Neil comes walking into the room a minute later, yawning. </p><p>“I could’ve been dying, you know,” Charlie jumps down from the counter, “And you took your sweet time to come out here.” <br/><br/>“That’s a risk I’m willing to take, Dalton. New letter?” Neil smiles, and Charlie hands the paper to him. </p><p>“We have a date. I think?” </p><p>“You think? </p><p>“You heard me,” Charlie decides changing the subject is easier than the flood of questions they would receive if they were vulnerable, “So who’s gonna be at the party tonight?” <br/><br/>“I’m not sure. It’s at Chris’s girlfriend’s apartment, so it’s probably more their crowd. I’m sure you’ll be the shining star, if that’s what you’re worried about.” <br/><br/>Neil pauses, and speaks again: “Charlie, what do I do if I really like someone?” <br/><br/>Charlie raises their eyebrows. Talk about coming out of left field. Of course, they’ve seen the way Neil looks at Todd, but from what they’ve seen, they barely speak. But Charlie has been distracted these past couple of weeks, and Neil has been in the apartment less and less. Come to think of it, where was Neil most of last night? <br/><br/>“It’s okay, you can say what do I do if I really like Todd Anderson. He’s not beetlejuice, he won’t appear,” Charlie moves closer to Neil, “I think what you do is you tell him. Plain and simple, I like you. What’s the worst that can happen?” <br/><br/>Neil cringes, “I don’t even know if he’s gay.” <br/><br/>“He sent you a curated spotify playlist. It has four Elliott Smith songs on it. It’s named <em> For Neil </em>. What more proof do you need?” </p><p>“I just really don’t want to fuck this up. He’s… he’s so good,” now it’s Neil’s turn to change the subject, “Will you help me look nice for the party?” <br/><br/>“... Can I give you guyliner?” Charlie pleads. </p><p>“Only if it looks as good as last time.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Charlie, Knox, and Neil arrive at the party right on time, much to Charlie’s displeasure. Usually they roll up an hour after they were told to be there, and by then everyone is tipsy enough not to mind. It spares them the awkward, sober small talk, and gives Neil enough time to text them a quick warning if any of their exes are there. </p><p>Tonight is important though. Unfortunately. </p><p>Chris’s new girlfriend seems to think she had made up Charlie, and they’re required to make an appearance and “play nice” (Chris’s words, not theirs). Ok, so they get a little… exuberant at parties. And perhaps they have a history of hounding their friends’ new significant others to make sure they’re worthy. But that was only because Neil has dated an asshole or two before, and Knox’s last boyfriend was inexplicably a conservative. They’re simply doing their duty as a friend. </p><p>Their first impression of the apartment is that it’s <em> way </em>nicer than the shitty dorm they’re currently in. There had been a mishap with their housing during the fall semester (think: exploding toilet and homophobic fourth roommate), and the three of them had to scramble to find something, anything better for the spring. They ended up at Hollis. It’s not perfect by any means, and this apartment really proves it, especially with its view being something other than dumpsters. </p><p>They’re quickly pulled out of their mind when a squeal erupts in their ear, and they feel arms wrapping around their neck. </p><p>“Hi baby!!” Chris plants a kiss on their cheek and they grin. They’ve missed her a lot these past few weeks. They’ve been meaning to call her, but she’s been in the honeymoon phase and they’ve been preoccupied with S. After their text earlier, S had responded pretty simply, with a smiley face. They’re trying not to think about it too much. </p><p>“Hey sweet thing,” Charlie wipes the lipgloss from their face, and the noise of the party comes back. It’s Charli XCX… they can’t complain. </p><p>“I’m so glad you’re here.” <br/><br/>Chris moves on to give Neil a hug and ruffle Knox’s hair (high school exes always have a weird bond, don’t they?). She points to a dark haired girl with heavy eyeliner and smirks. </p><p>“That’s her? Oh my god, she’s a babe,” Knox wiggles his eyebrows and Chris rolls her eyes. </p><p>Glancing over at the dimly lit kitchen, Charlie notices a familiar face at the table. </p><p>“Hey! Todd!” Charlie waves, and when Todd turns, he pales. Charlie continues to wave him over, ignoring Neil’s not so subtle shove. Todd maneuvers through a sea of people and a handful of folding chairs before coming up to the group. </p><p>“Hey,” Neil smiles softly, trying to meet Todd’s eyes. Knox and Chris look at each other and Charlie can tell they’ve instantly recognized that <em> this </em>is the boy Neil has been writing monologues about. </p><p>“H-hi guys. Nice to see you.” <br/><br/>“I didn’t know you’d be here tonight,” Neil’s voice cracks a bit, probably from nerves, and Charlie resists the urge to tease him. </p><p>“Oh… Well, I live here. So I don’t have much of a choice,” Todd laughs at his own quip and Neil looks like he’s going to combust. </p><p>“<em> You’re </em> Ginny’s roommate?” <br/><br/>“And Gerard’s!” A tall boy walking past them chimes in, not bothering to stop. </p><p>Todd shakes his head and moves closer to Neil, “Can’t forget Pittsie, he’s the mastermind behind this party. Yeah, I moved in this semester. You know Ginny?” </p><p>Neil shoots Charlie a look that says <em>please don't leave me here i'm nervous</em> and Charlie smirks. They aren't gonna lie, they’re invested in this conversation, but they also know Neil will thank them for this later. They slowly creep away mumbling something about getting shots so that Chris and Knox will join them. </p><p>Once they’re in the kitchen, huddled in the corner, Knox speaks up. </p><p>“Oh my god, <em> he’s </em>so cute. How am I the only one without a romantic interest?” </p><p>Chris starts to question what this statement could possibly mean and Charlie takes this as their cue to make an excuse about going to the bathroom and bolt across the room, into a dark hallway. </p><p>Chris calls after them that they’ve barely even sipped their drink and that she calls bullshit, but they just quicken their pace down the hallway. </p><p>They know that eventually they’ll have to talk to her about the S situation, but they don’t know if at a party that they pregamed for is necessarily the right setting. There’s already pressure on the night, and they’re going to be busy enough trying to see whether Ginny is good enough for Chris. In all honesty, they’ve been avoiding thinking about it. <br/><br/>They stand in the hallway for a moment, chug their drink, and duck into the closest room when they see Chris turning their way. </p><p>They stand for a moment, in the relative darkness, letting their eyes adjust. It isn’t the bathroom that they’d lied about finding. The first thing they notice is the smell of pine. There’s a flickering candle on a nightstand, illuminating walls papered with pages of books. The carpet is moss green and everything is so beautifully lived-in that Charlie can barely believe that a college student actually lives here. This must be Todd’s room. It must be, with it’s instant wave of calm and piles of books, and Elliott Smith vinyl propped up on a desk. </p><p>Somehow, the last fact that Charlie takes in is that there’s a boy sprawled out on the bed. Squinting at them. Charlie locks eyes with him and smiles awkwardly. </p><p>“Hey. Long time no see?” <br/><br/>Steven sits up and puts his glasses back on, “Charlie?” </p><p>“The one and only.” <br/><br/>Their joke meets silence as Steven messes with the bed spread, struggling for words. Charlie takes the moment of silence to look at him in the little light that is left in the room. He’s wearing a soft green sweater, and has a pair of earphones draped around the back of his neck. They never noticed before, but even his hands are freckled, and he’s wearing rings on his fingers and has an ear piercing? He looks nice, and right now he’s staring at Charlie like a fish out of water. Shit. </p><p>“I’m sorry. Am I… interrupting something?” An awful lightbulb goes off in Charlie’s head. This is Todd’s room and Steven and Todd are friends, they think, but Steven looks <em> really </em>cozy in this bed.</p><p> “Are you and Todd-” </p><p>“Oh, no. I mean, he’s my friend. But no, we’re not dating if that’s what you’re asking.”</p><p>“So you’re in his bed because….” <br/><br/>Steven narrows his eyes at Charlie, and they immediately sense they’ve made a mistake. <br/><br/>“You think it’s weird?” <br/><br/>“No! I don’t think it’s weird.” </p><p>“Then why are you interrogating me about it? What are you, the bed police? Do you even know Todd?” </p><p>“I- Uh. I was just curious. Can we start this conversation over?” </p><p>Steven nods and they silently thank god. They came in here to avoid confrontation and somehow they’ve tumbled headfirst into arguing with their sort of attractive classmate? </p><p>Scratch the sort of. He’s hot.</p><p>They attempt to push this out of their mind and sit down. They’re Charlie Fucking Dalton. They don’t get uncomfortable with strangers. They don’t hide at parties. What are they doing here? </p><p>“So why are you hiding? You seem like you’d be right at home at one of these things,” Steven’s eyes glance at the crop top Charlie is wearing, “Aren’t you cold?” </p><p><br/>“You sound like my mother. I’m not cold, thank you very much. I brought layers…. They’re just in the other room somewhere on the ground, probably being trampled on.” <br/><br/>“So let me get this straight. You came to a party, left your clothes on the ground, and then decided to hide in a stranger’s bedroom because?” <br/><br/>Charlie sighs, because they really didn’t have getting interrogated by a classmate on their list for tonight. Outside of the room they can hear Halsey playing and they resist the urge to hum along. Why would they tell him that the real reason why they’re hiding here is that they’re hiding from the prospect of romance and happiness for themself and others? No way are they opening up to someone who dog ears his books. </p><p>He is looking at them expectantly and they’re about to find an excuse to leave when Steven breaks, and giggles. </p><p>“Oh my god… I didn’t actually read your shirt. <em> Nothing tips like a cow </em> ? Is that an Iowa joke t-shirt? Where did you get that?” <br/><br/>When Steven laughs his cheeks turn bright red. It goes away quickly, but Charlie notices it. They also notice that Steven isn’t annoyed by their presence anymore, and feel their shoulders relax. <br/><br/>“I got it at a thrift store. My friend Knox said to buy it on a dare but I wear it unironically, just to spite him.” </p><p>Steven looks at them for a long while. </p><p>“I’m hiding in here on Todd’s bed because I hate parties. My friends are the hosts, so I’m here out of obligation, but to be honest, I’m way too much of a hermit to be out there socializing.” <br/><br/>Charlie stays quiet for a moment, and realizes this means that two sets of their friends are interested in each other? Small world. </p><p>“I understand. I used to be really good at this kind of thing. Maybe I’m getting old. Or maybe I’m just tired of it.”<br/><br/>“Why?” <br/><br/>The response is sudden, and it startles Charlie a bit. </p><p>“Why what?” <br/><br/>“Why are you tired of it? Everyone likes you.” <br/><br/>“Oh, come on,” Charlie scoffs, “It’s just tiring, you know?” <br/><br/>“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.” <br/><br/>They want to be mad at this, so badly, but the way that Steven asks this, all stern voice and head tilt and kind eyes makes Charlie soften. It’s almost like he cares. </p><p>“It’s tiring because it doesn’t feel like anyone really knows me. Not when everyone’s watching. It’s like I’m performing for an unhappy audience, and I’m just trying my best to keep them entertained.” <br/><br/>Charlie doesn’t even know these words are inside themself, but their eyes make their way from the floor back up to Steven’s face to see a gentle smile. <br/><br/>“I understand. It’s like, you just want to exist, right? You don’t want to have to prove how fun or exciting or interesting you are? You just want to be yourself and hope someone really sees you.” </p><p>Charlie’s mind drifts now, towards S. They think that’s why they like him so much. (They’re drunk at this point, so they can admit that). They don’t feel like they have to be anyone but themself when they talk to S, mostly because they were already caught at their most vulnerable. </p><p>“Yeah, exactly. It’s so frustrating when-” <br/><br/>The door slams open and an incredibly drunk Knox cheers. </p><p>“I finally found you, Dalton! Where the fuck have you been?” <br/><br/>Charlie glances over at Steven, who looks like a deer in headlights. Knox’s interruption makes Charlie’s stomach churn and pulls them away from the comfort of the room. Somewhere in another room the whole gang is waiting for them to entertain. They’re sure of it. They stand up quickly and nod in Steven’s direction. <br/><br/>“I was just coming back. Jesus, you’re toasted. Did you save a drink for me?” </p><p><br/>“I have one waiting for you,” Knox says in a singsong voice, turning to leave. </p><p>Charlie gestures to Knox and mouths <em> sorry </em>and tries not to glance back at Steven as they scurry out of the room. It’s not the best look for them, they’re self aware enough to know this, but as soon as Knox showed up they snapped out of whatever daze Steven had put them under and realized there was no way in hell they were going to be vulnerable with a stranger. Especially not Steven Meeks, who seems to think he’s better than everyone. </p><p>Soon enough Knox is dragging them over to a gaggle of girls who all get their pronouns wrong and keep ruffling their hair, but it's fine because Knox is happy and at least one of them has eyes for him instead of Charlie. </p><p>It’s fine, they’re absolutely sure of it. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Hearing Guitars, Like Someone In Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Party night part 2. </p><p>Steven is pissed, Charlie is charming, and Todd and Neil seem.... close! </p><p>Oh and Pitts and Knox are having a good time listening to LMFAO :)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What the fuck. </p><p>Steven isn’t sure exactly what just happened. One minute he was cozy in Todd’s bed, and the next he was being questioned by a pompous, sarcastic ass, and then they were suddenly opening up to him? Well… until their friend scooped them up. </p><p>He sits in the bed for a good fifteen minutes after Charlie has left. The antique clock on Todd’s wall chimes midnight, and he takes this as his signal to leave the room and get something to drink. </p><p>He takes a deep breath and braces himself to walk out into the chaotic hum outside of the door. It's not like he hasn’t been to a party before - being friends with Ginny and Gerard means being dragged along to every hole in the wall this town has to offer. He doesn’t hate it, necessarily. He just feels off put. Everyone here is showing so much skin, and doing stuff he’d never dream of doing in public. </p><p>Before walking out, he looks at his phone and sees a new message. Meeks hates to admit it, but his heart skips a beat before he can even read it. </p><p>
  <em> C: I miss you tonight </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’m out and about and the music playing blows.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Wish I could play something for you instead xx  </em>
</p><p>Screw skipping a beat. He almost has a heart attack after reading the message. </p><p>What the fuck. Is this flirting? This has to be flirting. He needs to find Todd to see if this is flirting. </p><p>He opens the door and immediately <em> party rock anthem is on? </em> He feels like he’s in an alternate universe but then sees Gerard and the boy who pulled Charlie from the room jumping around like doofuses. He’s in the right place, for better or for worse. </p><p>If he was drunker and not a mess he might’ve timidly joined them, but right now he’s on a mission to find Todd and figure out what’s going on with his emotions. </p><p>He’s <em> also </em>on a mission to avoid speaking to Charlie ever again, and is relieved to see them entertaining a crowd of goth girls, gesticulating and oblivious. A wisp of their hair is unruly and he notices the way they nervously push it away, again and again. What a performance. Meeks would be more mad but he doesn’t have the energy. Honestly, he feels kinda bad for Charlie. It’s tiring to be a spectacle. </p><p>Turning away from Charlie, he does a quick scan of the room and is relieved to see Todd sitting on the corner of the couch, whispering something in Neil’s ear. Neil is sitting on the floor and looking up at Todd with a grin. The people standing nearby seem unaware that the two of them are on the precipice of something great. </p><p>Steven slowly walks up to the two boys. He feels bad interrupting, but he knows that Todd is too nice to complain, at least in front of Neil. </p><p>Neil sees him first. </p><p>“Steven! Where were you? We <em> missed you </em>!” Neil enunciates his last words and Steven feels himself blush. He doesn’t want to explain to Mr. Popular that he would rather die than be in a room full of sweaty acquaintances for more than an hour at a time. </p><p>“Oh, I’ve been around. It’s a long story,” Steven doesn’t want to bash Charlie in front of their best friend, “Todd, can I talk to you?” <br/><br/>Todd nods, and has a look on his face that’s almost goofy. He doesn’t move from the couch, instead gesturing to an empty cushion. </p><p>“Sit, my friend. Tell us all of your woes.” <br/><br/>“Oh my god. How many drinks did you have, Anderson? Nevermind… Can I-” He nods towards Neil. </p><p>“Yeah, of course. He won’t judge about your mystery crush, right Neil?” </p><p>“Of course not! I think it’s quite romantic.” <br/><br/>“You told him?” Steven’s voice cracks as he tries not to appear too perturbed. He reminds himself of his new year's resolution. <em> Be less fussy </em>. Got it. Cool. </p><p>“S-Sorry Meeks. It just happened. He’s really cool about it, you know.” <br/><br/>“Fine,” Steven sighs and holds out his phone, “Look at what they just texted me.” </p><p>Neil grabs the phone and holds it close to his and Todd’s faces. The artificial glow bounces off their hair, making them look like angels. Their heads are touching and Steven resists the urge to laugh when he watches them both realize this and slowly move away. Fools. </p><p>“Oh… they really do like you.” Neil sounds almost surprised at this, which is kind of rude given he obviously doesn’t know the context, but whatever. </p><p>“You think so?” <br/><br/>“Absolutely,” Todd says. </p><p>“I think I like them. A lot. I don’t really know what to do? I don’t want to scare them off.” <br/><br/>“You won’t,” Neil interjects quickly. </p><p>“How?” <br/><br/>“Just keep being yourself. They like- I mean it seems like they like that. Being genuine is important. You should text them back,” Neil adds. There’s an odd smile on his face and Steven isn’t blind to the look Todd gives him. Weird. </p><p>“Okay. What do I say?” <br/><br/>“Say exactly what you’re feeling. Tell them,” Todd urges, handing his phone back. </p><p>Steven looks back down at the screen and then closes his eyes, placing his phone in his pocket. His hands run through his hair and he sighs. He’s not used to this. </p><p>“Steven? Hey… Steven. Are you okay?” Neil is standing now and has a tentative hand on his shoulder. </p><p>His eyes flutter back open, “Yeah. I’m fine. All good. I… I need to go home.” <br/><br/>“Do you want us to walk you?” Todd asks. </p><p>“Yeah, I live close to you. It would be no problem, really.” </p><p>“I’m all good. You two are enjoying your time together. I’ll text you when I get home safe… Todd, will you tell Ginny and Pitts that I’ll talk to them tomorrow, and that I’m sorry for not meeting Chris?” <br/><br/>“I don’t think you have to worry about that. Chris and Ginny have had Charlie cornered for a while,” Todd nods over to the group and Steven resists the urge to cringe. He doesn’t need to be thinking about <em> that </em>situation on top of everything going on with C. </p><p>“Gotcha. I’ll call you tomorrow Todd.” <br/><br/>With this, Meeks power walks out of the party before anyone can protest his early exit. It’s late so he doesn’t have any earphones in and the knife tucked in his boot is freezing against his skin. He had originally been planning to sleep over at the party, but he’s sure that Ginny will be too cozied up with Chris to notice, and his last glance into the apartment saw Gerard passed out on an armchair, so he’s not too worried about him either. </p><p>When he gets back to his dorm, his fingers are so cold they can barely unlock the door. He flops down on his bed and yells at his Alexa that’s probably spying on him to play anything sweet, anything to help his heart during a time like this. Alexa is confused and asks him to repeat himself. He caves and asks for Chet Baker, and <em> Like Someone In Love </em>starts blaring. </p><p>Putting his keys back into his pocket, he feels the steady weight of his phone. Shit. C. </p><p>He’s scared. He’ll admit that. The last time he flirted he still had braces. This isn’t something he usually likes to do. But with C it’s different. </p><p>Steven laughs out loud at this thought. It’s so corny. If he had just delivered that as a line of dialogue in one of the shitty drama shows he’s constantly watching, he’d boo at the screen. But it’s true. C is different. They’re kind to him, and they listen. The last time someone actually listened to him was so long ago. He wants them to keep listening, and he wants to listen too. To strain an ear for this stranger’s lilting voice. To mouth Lady Gaga lyrics that he only knows because C has <em> Paparazzi </em>on repeat. </p><p>He wants this, and that’s the scariest part of it all. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: I miss you too</b>
</p><p><b>Why don’t you?</b> <b><br/></b> <b>Play something for me, I mean</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: I thought u would nvrrr reply </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Cant !!! Play !!!!!  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Too drunk &lt;33333 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: Oh jeez. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Where are you?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Are you all good? </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: At a party and evreryonevd keeps flirting with me :((((( </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Im goood now that im talkin to a pretty boy </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>S: Oh, a party? </b> <b><br/></b> <b>And… a pretty boy? </b> <b><br/></b> <b>Do I have competition </b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: You’re so sweet </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Its you </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: How do u know i’m pretty</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: You just are </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: Well thank you</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Are you having a good time?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: mmmmm kinda.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Some people rrr sooooo touchy! </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But dw i didnt get into toooo many fightsjf </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Unless u like a bad boy ;) </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: a bad boy????</b>
</p><p>
  <b>I hear you yelling at the tv when u watch reality tv</b>
</p><p>
  <b>You know this right?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: WOWWWWWW and here i thought we were bffffs  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ur holding my worst moments againsfjnt me  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: I don’t think they’re your worst moments</b>
</p><p>
  <b>I like that you’re passionate</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: Awww </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I wish u were louder sooo i ahd more stufff to tease u abt </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I will say the pastel envelopes are dorky </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>S: Dorky?</b> <b><br/></b> <b>You're rude sometimes u know</b></p><p>
  <b>I think they’re pretty.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: What about me, S? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: What do you mean?  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: do u thinkdfjk im pretty?!?! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: What kind of question is that</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: a q iwant u to answer!!!!! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: You’re wasted </b>
</p><p>
  <b>You’re gonna regret this convo in the morning </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: no I won’t </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: I think you’re beautiful. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>(Read 2:34 AM) </b>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i think i said this before but writing charlie and meeks as strangers to lovers and enemies to lovers simultaneously??? its my fave thing to do. </p><p>if you like this feel free to comment/leave kudos/tell your friends! </p><p>also if you wanna talk my tumblr is tellmewhytheyswoon.tumblr.com </p><p>this chap is shorter but the cut off was just too good to pass up. there will be more soon :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. How Long Till We Look Back And Say (We Can't Believe We Lived That Way)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Charlie decides to be bold, Steven is really bitter, Todd and Neil are as oblivious as ever, and Pitts (our fave) is here again!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Charlie wakes up at noon in a room that seems vaguely familiar. They’re lying on a soft green rug with a pillow under their head and a huge quilt thrown over them, and if they didn’t have a pounding headache they’d be quite happy with the situation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They close their eyes again and lay still until they hear movement nearby and realize they’re not alone. Slowly they turn to see Neil peering down at them from a bed… with Todd. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neil’s eyes seem to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t you dare say anything I swear to god Charlie if you make a comment i’ll disown you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Or at least that's what they think he would say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi guys,” Charlie’s voice comes out hoarse and they immediately regret speaking, feeling a wave of nausea overtake them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Charlie… How are you feeling?” Todd asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, great. Really good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure? I got you some water, and pain meds,” Todd points at the nearby desk and Charlie gratefully moves towards the glass. It even has ice in it…. Todd is too good to them. They take the meds, and when Todd is looking down at his phone, they raise an eyebrow at Neil. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Charlie’s tone is more genuine now, “Did you two have a good night?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Yeah,” Neil laughs awkwardly, “We did.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Hopefully I wasn’t too intrusive,” Charlie knows that they’re prying at this point, but given Neil’s over involvement in their love life as of late, they think they’re allowed this moment of curiosity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no… You were fine. Neil didn’t want to leave you so I let him sleep in my bed. I slept on the couch… I’m just an early riser.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Shit. So these idiots didn’t bite the bullet after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, your bed has been host to a lot of boys then recently,” Charlie realizes how wrong it sounds as they’re saying it, but they can’t stop. Todd’s face twists in confusion, and they don’t even want to look at Neil. Fuck. This is why they’re not a morning person. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I just mean…. Last night Steven was in here… sorry,” Charlie adds quickly. Up on the bed, Neil’s shoulders relax slightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You hung out with Meeks?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Charlie laughs at the nickname, and shakes his head, “Kind of. I know he’s your friend and all, but I don’t think he likes me too much.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Neil and Todd exchange a look and they all sit in silence for a moment. Yikes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Outside, there’s a morning dove cooing. The sound is reaching into their temple and they resist the urge to curl into a ball. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neil sees the discomfort on Charlie’s face and nods to Todd. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, uh, last night you took a little bit of a spill. No broken bones but uh….” Todd trails off and hands Charlie their phone. They hadn’t even noticed it was gone, to be honest. So much for their streak of not blacking out at parties. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We took it for your own good,” Neil explains, pointing to the newly cracked screen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie doesn’t remember much of the night before. After they had left Todd’s room they’d gotten so shitfaced that at one point they </span>
  <em>
    <span>may </span>
  </em>
  <span>have puked all over the bathroom floor. If this happened Todd isn’t saying anything about it, which makes Charlie feel a little bad about not knowing Todd’s name till quite recently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did I gravely offend anyone?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Not that I know of… yet,” Neil says, adding the last part. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie turns on their phone, and after adjusting to the brightness of their screen, their heart drops. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>There’s an unread message. From S. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They click on it, trying to ignore the shake in their hands. Neil and Todd have turned to each other and are murmuring about some poetry club that they’re going to later on. Doesn’t sound like much of a fun Saturday to them, but whatever. They realize after a few seconds that their eyes are clasped shut, and they have to bribe themself with the promise that if they read whatever this text is they’ll buy a large oat milk latte on the way home. Their eyes open, and they read the text. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>S is calling them beautiful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wait, no. S believes that they’re beautiful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They feel heat rise to their cheeks and resist the urge to bury their head in their hands. Beautiful. All this time, no one has ever called them beautiful. Maybe hot, or handsome, and they’ve definitely had their fair share of “sexy” thrown at them. But never beautiful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Is this all it takes, they wonder? All they needed to become completely head over heels enamored was a boy they’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>never even seen </span>
  </em>
  <span>calling them beautiful? </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Charlie lays back down on the ground, not caring that Neil and Todd have now turned their heads in their direction. Neil is saying something about some poem, and asking them to go somewhere later, but all Charlie can think about is S. The pound of their head is distant and they’re smiling. Smiling at the ground like a weirdo. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Char, are you okay?” Neil’s voice cuts through the fog. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He called me beautiful.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The words are tumbling out of their mouth before they even realize it. Todd raises an eyebrow at them, and pulls his comforter closer around his shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who called you beautiful?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Oh. It’s a long story, but I’m talking to this boy. And he, he called me beautiful?” Charlie doesn’t know why they’re so shy about this. It’s just Todd. If Neil trusts him, they’re sure that he won’t judge. And besides, why would they care what anyone else thinks? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s really nice. You deserve to be called beautiful. Everyone does,” Todd replies. The last part seems to startle him, and Neil looks over shyly at the blush on Todd’s cheek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What were you two asking me about?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“We were telling you to come to the poetry club Keating is starting. The first meeting is this afternoon. It’s gonna be good. Anderson over here is gonna share a poem,” Neil playfully shoves Todd’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well I wouldn’t miss that for the world. Is it about Neil?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Charlie! Behave yourself,” Neil jokes, but Charlie knows they’re in for it when they get home. They don’t regret it. These idiots are head over heels for each other.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Just for that you have to go with us,” Todd responds, getting up from the bed, “Do you two want to borrow some clothes, so you don’t have to go back to your dorm?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you two can hangout beforehand. Just text me where it is. I’ve gotta go see about something.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Twenty minutes later, Charlie is sitting in a cafe, listening to <em>How Long </em>by Palehound on a loop and scrolling through the texts they sent to S last night. If they weren’t still a tiny bit drunk they might secretly be embarrassed, but right now they’re reveling in the feeling of being wanted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least, they think that they’re wanted. In the context of being a stranger who’s friends with another stranger.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As they stare out of the window at a particularly fat bird, they try to push the worry out of their mind. Sure, they don’t know if S likes them in that way. He could’ve just been amused by their drunkenness and playing along. They’re tired of doubting. They want him to know how they feel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s time to be bold. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s almost noon when Steven is woken up by a barrage of knocks on his door. He takes a moment to stand and groan, realizing he fell asleep without doing his skincare routine. He makes his way over to the door and turns the handle, not bothering to look through the peephole. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s only one person in his life who would knock in such an elaborate way, let alone show up randomly at his dorm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he swings the door open, Gerard cringes at the squeaky hinge and adjusts his sunglasses. The first thing he notices besides his kermit the frog t-shirt is a huge bouquet of purple flowers being cradled in his arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For me?” Steven laughs, “Pittsie… you shouldn’t have…. Really, why?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“They’re not from me, stupid. They were on your doormat. With a note,” Pitts’ voice is hoarse but there’s still a singsong quality to it. Shit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I have the note?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I just think it’s so sweet that Todd went out of his way to do this for you, he really is a great-”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Todd? </span>
  </em>
  <span>You think Todd did this?” Steven ushers Gerard into the room, taking the flowers and card into his arms, “How many times do I have to tell you that Todd and I aren’t interested in each other. Pittsie, please, I'm begging you to believe me. If he and I were a thing you’d be the first to know.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Gerard shrugs and sits at the bed, “I don’t know, Meeks. You haven’t really been hanging with me as much. I just thought - with you and Todd spending so much time together, maybe there was something…. I guess I just miss you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meeks immediately feels like the worst friend in the world. Of course. Of course his best friend in the universe feels weird. They haven’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>hung out and shared secrets in far too long. Gerard may be goofy, but he’s always </span>
  <span>been Steven’s shoulder to cry on. He doesn’t even know about C. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knows at first that he was worried about what Ginny and Pitts would think, but it’s been too long. It’s become less about their reactions and more about his tendency to avoid emotions. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He sits next to Gerard and gives him a hug, “Oh buddy, I miss you too. I haven’t been exactly… available recently. I can explain, I promise.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Does it have to do with your stack of letters over there?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe. Um. Do you know how my upstairs neighbor is really loud? And like… sad all the time?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerard nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well. Uh… I kind of wrote them a letter. And it… escalated from there. Todd knows about it, that’s part of why we got close these past couple of weeks. I was gonna tell you, I swear. I was just scared you were gonna-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Laugh at you? I mean, a little,” Gerard is smiling and shaking his head, “Only you, Meeks. You romantic motherfucker.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Romantic? Just because I like romcoms doesn’t mean I’m good at this.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’m sure you’re great at it. So who is this person? When do I get to meet them?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steven looks down and plays with his rings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a moment Pitts speaks up again, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You’ve never met them?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s the problem,” Steven looks down again, suddenly remembering the bouquet in his arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you gonna read that? Cause if not, I’m totally willing to-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meeks swats him lightly with the note and hands it to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can do the honors. I owe you that much.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Pitts gingerly opens the envelope. A grin spreads on his face as he reads aloud.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dear S, You make me feel like I’m special. One of my best friends keeps telling me to be myself when I’m talking to you. I realized this morning that it’s easy. I’m the most myself when I’m “with” you. It feels like I’m able to step off stage and just be myself when we talk. I can’t wait for our date tonight. Yours, C.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Steven swears he stops breathing for a moment. After all of the chaos last night he had almost forgotten. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You guys have a </span>
  <em>
    <span>date</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Oh my god, Ginny is gonna flip when she finds out.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Steven sighs, “I’ll fill you in on it, but can we at least get breakfast?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You know it baby. Dunkin?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Always. After, will you go with me to Keating’s poetry club? Todd wants me to go and I don’t know if I have the strength to go alone.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Gerard stands up from the bed and stretches, his arms reaching the ceiling,“The things I do for you…. Of course.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>An hour and a half later, Steven is sitting in the damp grass freezing his ass off, reminding himself how much he loves Todd and wants to support him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keating's poetry club is great. Of course it is. Just not in the winter, and definitely not outside, right next to the place freshman go to take hits off of gravity bongs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's an interesting time to say the least.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Next to him, Todd and Neil are sitting as close as possible without it being romantic. Neil keeps whispering things that make Todd stifle a laugh. Pitts is “going to the bathroom” but has been gone for fifteen minutes. Meeks is pretty sure he went off in search of said gravity bong. Keating is waving his arms around and raving about Elliott Smith and the meaning of poetry in song. Most people are enraptured, and Steven is interested, but he’s also extremely aware that it’s cold and he’s a bit hungover. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, and Charlie is sitting next to him. So that’s a thing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, I’ll wrap up my thoughts and let you all get to it. Whoever wants to share a poem is welcome to. You’re not obligated, but we’d love to hear from a variety of voices,” Keating exclaims. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steven can feel Charlie’s eyes on him. He stares straight ahead, jaw locked. It’s fine. He’s not bitter. Not at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you gonna read a poem?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Steven turns to Charlie, “No. I’m sure you have some genius you’re gonna impart on us all though. Go ahead up there and enlighten us imbeciles.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie pulls their knees up to their chin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jeez. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Someone didn’t learn when people don’t want to talk to them,” Steven huffs. Okay, maybe he’s still bitter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this about last night?” Charlie’s voice lowers to a whisper, “I’m not saying sorry for going back to the land of the living and having a good time.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t expect you to say sorry. You’re a fire sign, aren’t you?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Fire sign?” Charlie scoffs, “You wish. I’m a cancer. What are you, an aquarius?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m a virgo. And I’m also done with this conversation, Charlie.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Steven can tell that Charlie is going to respond, but luckily a girl begins to read her poetry and the group’s volume succumbs to a hush. After a few people read, Todd stands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve got this Todd,” Steven says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Woo! Go Todd!” Charlie woops obnoxiously, and Steven grits his teeth. Today isn’t going to be ruined by an asshole. It’s a good day. He’s hanging out with his friends. He has a date tonight. </span>
  <em>
    <span>C might like him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Todd walks to the center of the circle the group has made in the field. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-uh. I wrote this recently. For someone I care about a lot.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Steven glances at Neil and sees bright red cheeks and a rare downcast gaze. It would be sweet if it wasn’t so infuriatingly obvious that the two were too scared to do anything about loving each other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turns back as Todd starts to read quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>teeth clanking </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>kid i am </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>sighing. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>close to your </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>palm </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>the moon </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>cracks open, </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>i sing </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>ocean songs:</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>(i wanna)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>(i will never)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>(please) </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>a selfish kiss </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>i’d never ask</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>the beach </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>humming </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>till the water </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>rebels - screams</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>and your moonlit </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>grin </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>staring back</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>you looked at </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>me and laughed </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>you haven’t </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>spoken all night</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>it felt </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>like a kiss, </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>barely even there.”</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steven immediately starts clapping, along with Keating and the small group of students gathered. Perhaps the only one clapping louder is Charlie. Neil is just sitting there looking so lovestruck it’s painful. Todd looks panicked, but luckily Neil comes back to life and claps, grinning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie leans over to Steven, “He’s got it bad, doesn’t he?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’m not talking to you about my friend’s possible romantic endeavors.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You don’t seriously think I don’t know what’s going on here? Neil’s my best friend. They’re head over heels for each other and both too scared to admit it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steven shrugs, "I'm not so sure about that." <br/><br/>"What, do you have a crush on Todd after all?" <br/><br/>"Why does everyone and their mother think that I like Todd Anderson. Just because we're friends and we're both gay doesn't mean we like each other," Steven whispers furiously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Jeez, okay. Got it." <br/><br/>"Even if I did agree with you. It's not... I don't know if we should..." <br/><br/>"Talk about it? They're practically begging us to talk about it. Look at them," Charlie slightly gestures over at the two boys. They're oblivious, giggling about something on Todd's phone. Their hands both sit in the grass, inches apart. <br/></span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Ok, maybe they are into each other. What do you want me to do about it?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“The question is what do </span>
  <em>
    <span>we </span>
  </em>
  <span>do about it.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Come on, I didn’t even get to-” </span>
  <span></span>
    <br/>
  
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Absolutely not. I’m not meddling in our friends’ business. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Especially</span>
  </em>
  <span> not with you as my cohort.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steven. Neil and I slept at Todd’s apartment last night and they didn’t even share a bed. They’re stuck at a standstill. We’d be bad friends if we didn’t do anything about it,” Charlie pleads, and for the first time in the entire conversation Steven turns to face them fully. Close up and in the sunlight, they have freckles. And nice eyes. It’s startling, and maybe it’s why Steven says what he does. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s your plan... “ He sighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you’d never ask.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>the poem in this chapter has a funny history: its original iteration was written by a 15 year old han (me) about my best friend at the time who i was in love with. then around a year ago i took the original and made it into a blackout poem. this version is a slightly edited one of the blackout poem. the original is horrendously cheesy and will never see the light of day agian, but i needed something sweet for todd thinking he's in unrequited love. </p>
<p>also its kind of funny that the palehound song referenced in this chapter is about the pandemic but the pandemic doesn't exist in this fic. lets just roll with it. </p>
<p>thank u for all the comments friends, they make my day!! not rlly sure how fast chapters will be coming out, im in college and stuff is catching up, but i write this bad boy in most of my spare time so it'll keep coming!! </p>
<p>happy valentines day pals, <br/>han</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Boy, I'm Just A Loser For Your Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Charlie really likes pancakes and Meeks wishes looks could kill.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey friends </p><p>this one goes out to the absolute legend, li. </p><p>also the playlist linked in the chapter is real and continually updated, feel free to listen!</p><p>see ya in a week or two,</p><p>han :))))))))</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Can I get a short stack, home fries and bacon on the side? Oh, and a pot of coffee for the table. And whatever this fine gentleman would like,” Charlie coos, making heart eyes at the waitress. </p><p>Steven scoffs. He’s not really sure how he ended up here. One moment he was reluctantly agreeing to conspire with Charlie, and the next he was being whisked away to his favorite diner in order to plan? </p><p>It’s great. Really great! Not only is he going behind his friend’s back, but he’s sitting here with an incredibly smug Charlie, watching them relentlessly flirt with anything that breathes. Except him, thank god. </p><p>The waitress turns to him. </p><p>“Can I please have two eggs over easy, rye toast, and orange juice?” </p><p>Steven thinks about ordering more just to spite Charlie, but he can’t bring himself to be <em> that </em>petty. </p><p>The waitress nods and turns back to Charlie to exchange more pleasantries before retreating into the kitchen. There’s a long pause as Steven fiddles with the cheap cloth napkin. </p><p>“You’re not much of a talker, are you?” Charlie smirks at their own comment, “That’s okay. I’ll make up for it.” <br/><br/>“I’m sure you will. Are you going to tell me your flawless plan, or just waste time flirting with waitresses and being rude to me?” </p><p>“Hey! That was <em> not </em>flirting. Is that what you want, for me to flirt with you? Aw Steven, you should’ve just said so,” Charlie teases. </p><p>“I’m not interested. Besides, I’m…” He pauses, “seeing someone, I think.” <br/><br/>“How do you think you’re seeing someone? You either are or you aren’t. God, you’re just as bad as Neil and Toddy.” <br/><br/>“Something tells me that Todd wouldn’t appreciate that nickname.” <br/><br/>“You’re an avoidant person. Has anyone ever told you that?” <br/><br/>Steven goes to respond, but the waitress comes back with their drinks. She gives Charlie a wink as she leaves. The two fall back into silence, and he watches as Charlie empties four hazelnut creamers into their coffee. </p><p>“Jeez, you like your coffee sweet.” <br/><br/>“I’m nursing a hangover, I need a little sweetness in my life,” Charlie takes a long sip of their coffee and Steven stares down at the table. <br/><br/>“About last night, I-” <br/><br/>“I’m sorry,” Charlie interrupts, “I was a dick. I don’t know why.” <br/><br/>“I think I know why.” <br/><br/>“You do?” Now it’s Charlie’s turn to avoid eye contact. </p><p>“Yeah. We were having a weird conversation, you wanted out. I get it.”</p><p>Shockingly, Charlie doesn’t say anything to this. They just nod and stay quiet, which makes Steven more uncomfortable than when they were being an ass. What’s their deal? Why are they so hot and cold? <br/><br/>It sucks. He doesn’t have any trans friends here, and if they’re being honest they’d kind of hoped Charlie would be that for him. </p><p>“Ok, so….. Are you going to help me with the plan or what? Todd says you’re a genius. You better live up to it cause it’s gonna take some Einstein level shit to get these two to finally be together.” </p><p>“I have a couple of ideas. Most of them involve shoving them in a room together and locking the door until they figure it out, but that seems a bit too harsh.”<br/><br/>“Too harsh? They’d thank us.” <br/><br/>“Well do <em> you </em> have any ideas?”  Steven retorts. </p><p>“Well, there is a party at Chris’s soon… Maybe we can separately bother both of them into going. I’m always down for a game of spin the bottle.” <br/><br/>“Spin the bottle? You don’t seriously think-” Meeks holds back a shudder at the thought of playing. <br/><br/>“Steven, you underestimate the power of spinning the bottle. It’s intoxicating. You should try it.” <br/><br/>“Again, not interested. And you don’t always have to call me Steven. It sounds so clinical. Most of the time my friends call me Meeks.” <br/><br/>“Oh, so we’re friends now? That’s a welcome change,” Charlie grins as the food is served. </p><p>Steven looks down at his eggs and takes a bite, “That’s not what I said.” <br/><br/>“Okay, whatever you say <em> friend </em> .” <br/><br/>“If I agree to get Todd to go to the party will you stop?” <br/><br/>“Only if you bring your special someone too. I’m curious to see who’s worthy of your attention,” Charlie is speaking with his mouth full and Meeks grimaces. </p><p>“Not happening.” <br/><br/>“Guess I’ll just have to keep bothering you about it, my buddy.” <br/><br/>“We’re getting off topic. How are we going to get them to agree to spin the bottle? And how are we going to rig it?” </p><p>“I thought I saw something about magnets working?” <br/><br/>“You <em> thought </em>you saw it? You better figure it out because I don’t think either of them will react too kindly to kissing another person.” </p><p>“What if it’s just truth or dare? That’s easier, right?” <br/><br/>“Yeah, you’re right?” Meeks agrees. </p><p>“Don’t sound so surprised. I’m smart.” <br/><br/>“In class on Monday, we should try to steer the direction of the conversation to the party, so they won’t be surprised that the other is there like last time.” <br/><br/>“Oh my god, you should’ve seen Neil’s face. He was the funniest combination of excited and nervous. And when Todd said he lived there. It was comedy gold, Meeks,” Charlie starts laughing at their own memory, and Steven hates to admit that they have a nice laugh. It’s loud and echoes against the muted sounds of the diner. </p><p>“I can only imagine how embarrassed Todd must have been. We’re doing a good thing, right? They’re perfect for each other.” <br/><br/>“Of course. We’re gonna get best wing-people of the year awards for this one. We’ll get to tell this story at their wedding.” <br/><br/>Steven giggles at this, and after configuring a few more details and exchanging instagrams to plan more, is almost disappointed when he looks down to see Charlie signing the receipt and putting on their jacket. He insists on leaving the tip, and pulls on his mittens. </p><p>“Thank you for paying,” Steven stands up and realizes that Charlie is taller than him, and has a scar on their chin, and a tattoo of the sun peeking out of the neck of their shirt. He hadn’t noticed before. </p><p>“Of course. I’m the one who’s forcing you to help,” Charlie chuckles and it sounds self conscious, almost. </p><p>“You’re not forcing me. I want to help. Help Neil and Todd, I mean.” <br/><br/>The pair walk out into the light drizzle of rain. The formerly nice day has devolved into endless gray. </p><p>“I have to go to the library,” Charlie points in the building's general direction, “For Keating’s big project.”</p><p>“I still haven’t started, to be honest. Poetry isn’t my forte.” <br/><br/>“Well, if you ever want to work on it together-” <br/><br/>“Yeah, maybe,” Meeks is vague, noncommittal in his response. He knows that Charlie is probably only saying this to be nice. </p><p>He turns to leave, but Charlie stops him. </p><p>“I shouldn’t have walked out last night. You were right, when you were talking about just wanting someone to see you. I really am sorry.” </p><p>Steven nods, “I’ll see you in class Charlie.” He starts walking in the other direction before Charlie can say anything else. He doesn’t know what to make of what happened in the last hour. He doesn't want to think about why his cheeks feel warm. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><b>S: How are you feeling?</b> <b><br/></b> <b>Sorry for not texting </b></p><p>
  <b>Busy day</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: i’m okay </em>
</p><p>
  <em> did u get the flowers? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: Yes</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Thank you </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: did you… like them?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: I loved them</b>
</p><p>
  <b>No one’s ever gotten me flowers before</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: consider it a late valentines present  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: Oh.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: oh???? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ur scary today with these vague texts </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: Sorry!! I just…</b>
</p><p>
  <b>I have to get you a present too, I guess</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: i’m waiting patientlyyyyyyy </em>
</p><p>
  <em> spending time with you is enough  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: You’re a sap</b>
</p><p><b>You excited to “hang out” tonight?</b> <b><br/><br/></b></p><p>
  <em> C: I’ve got a playlist &amp; everything  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: Can I add to it? </b>
</p><p> </p><p><em> C: yeah, here’s a link </em> <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/75ALtYO0zcJDHlaDMcZmu5?si=LslHnmnlT8yo6PNyv6fUWg"> <em> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/75ALtYO0zcJDHlaDMcZmu5?si=LslHnmnlT8yo6PNyv6fUWg </em> </a> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: I’ll add stuff</b>
</p><p>
  <b>You owe me a letter, you know that right? </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: ik </em>
</p><p>
  <em> what do you want me to write to you about?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: I wanna know more about you</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Can I ask you questions in the meantime?</b>
</p><p> </p><p><em> C: my fave part of the day!! </em> <em> <br/></em> <em> Q&amp;A with S &lt;3 </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: Hmmm </b>
</p><p>
  <b>What's your least favorite class you’ve ever taken here? </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: easy. anything science related. i suck at it.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: Lol. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>What’s your best friend like? </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: i only endure these pop quizzes for you  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> i hope u know that </em>
</p><p>
  <em> my best friend is…. kind.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> a born leader. wayyyy more mature than me.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> he’s the most passionate person I’ve ever met.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> what about you?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: He sounds sweet… and you not being mature??? Who would’ve guessed. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>I have three. They’re basically my only friends. That probably doesn’t sound like a great selling point for me lol. They’re great. Two of them are more out there, the other one is really shy. We make a good group. </b>
</p><p> </p><p><em> C: can I be counted as one of your friends?? </em> <em> <br/><br/></em></p><p>
  <b>S: I guess lol</b>
</p><p>
  <b>You know more about me than they do, in some ways</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: i’m honored.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: Oh, I’m curious… </b>
</p><p><b>What’s your fave poem? </b> <b><br/></b> <b>You said you liked to write them, right? </b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: O Small Sad Ecstacy of Love by Anne Carson  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: I love Anne Carson. Autobiography of Red is my fave</b>
</p><p><b>Shit. I just read the poem. </b> <b><br/></b> <b>It’s beautiful. </b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: it reminds me of you </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>S: What is this, C? </b> <b><br/><br/></b></p><p>
  <em> C: what do u mean?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>S: What are we doing? </b> <b><br/><br/></b></p><p><em> C: getting to know each other? </em> <em> <br/></em> <em> i think.  </em></p><p>
  <em> all I know is that I like you </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: What if you don’t like the real me? </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: i don’t see a way i couldn’t like you </em>
</p><p>
  <em> unless ur a republican </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>S: You don’t have to worry about that one</b> <b><br/></b> <b>I’ve gotta go do something, we’ll talk later? </b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: ofc </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>S: And C? </b> <b><br/></b> <b>I like you too. </b></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Branches On The Same Old Tree</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Charlie and Meeks fight on instagram and C and S flirt over text. They're very, very oblivious as always. </p><p>Also Charlie is a chef. </p><p>That's all!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi friends long time no see </p><p>turns out college is still hard! </p><p>anywayysssssss i hope y'all like this chapter, working on a new one as we speak!</p><p>the song referenced in the title is "northsiders" by christian lee hutson </p><p>as always, kudos and comments are incredibly appreciated. it makes my day :)) </p><p>best,<br/>han</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Neeeeeil…… Oh Neil??????” Charlie calls from the kitchen. </p><p>Neil opens his door slightly, “Yeah?” </p><p>He’s leaning forward into the hall, blocking Charlie’s view of his bedroom. Inside, Charlie hears Tchaikovsky and a small voice humming along. <br/><br/>“Is Todd in there?” <br/><br/>“That’s none of your business,” Neil blushes. </p><p>“So he is? Toddy! My sweet! Reveal yourself!” <br/><br/>The music stops and a sleepy Todd peeks his head next to Neil.</p><p>“We were just, uh, taking a nap. Didn’t get much sleep last night on the couch,” Todd explains. Neil is biting his nail and looking anywhere but Todd and Charlie. Great. </p><p>“Of course. Totally reasonable,” Charlie smirks, “I made dinner. Do you want some?” <br/><br/>“You <em> made dinner </em> ? Is it… edible?” <br/><br/>Charlie scoffs, “I followed a recipe, if that’s what you’re worried about.” <br/><br/>Charlie walks back into the kitchen as the oven beeps, taking the food out. Todd and Neil follow, sitting close at the kitchen table. The tinny radio in the kitchen is playing John Prine, and Charlie makes a mental note to send the song to S later. They place the food on the table with a flourish.  </p><p>“Charlie, this is trader joes pizza-”<br/><br/>“It’s okay, no need to thank me.” <br/><br/>“So are you gonna tell us why you’re so giddy?” Todd asks, before shoving a piece of pizza in his mouth. </p><p>“I have a date,” Charlie tries to sound like their usual snarky self. It barely works.</p><p>Neil grins, “You’re going out with him?” <br/><br/>“Um, not exactly.” </p><p>“What do you mean, not exactly? Did you find someone else in the four hours we’ve let you roam unsupervised?” </p><p>“Jeez Todd, harsh. No, I just had things to do… It’s with him. I actually got him flowers.” <br/><br/>“ <em> Flowers </em>? Who are you and what have you done with Charlie Dalton?” </p><p>“I really like him. A lot. I’m just scared.” <br/><br/>“What are you scared of?” Neil’s voice is quieter now.</p><p>“What if he doesn’t like me? What if we meet and it’s awful? I mean, I have no clue who he is,” Charlie folds their pizza and shoves it into their mouth, not wanting to say anything more. </p><p>They all sit in the quiet for a second. Todd has a look on his face like he’s thinking, and while reaching for a second slice, he finally speaks. </p><p>“Charlie, I think you have to let yourself be scared. It is terrifying, but it would feel worse to do nothing about it. You obviously really like him.” <br/><br/>“I don’t like not being in control,” Charlie pouts. </p><p>“Oh come on Char, let yourself be admired for once! You deserve it!”</p><p>Charlie is going to respond, they really are, but just then Knox emerges from his bedroom, yawning. <br/><br/>Okay sure, perhaps they were going to change the subject anyways, but this gives them the perfect excuse. <br/><br/>“Knoxious, my love! Get over here,” Charlie gestures to their lap, and Knox rolls his eyes before sitting on their knee. </p><p>“What do you want Charlie?” </p><p>“Ohhhh, nothing.” <br/><br/>Knox furrows his eyebrows at Charlie, “You called me a pet name. I know you. What do you want?” </p><p>“Well, it actually concerns all of you,” Charlie gestures to the other boys, “I have a proposition for you fine gentlemen. I <em> know </em>that you’re a little tired out from the party last night, but Chris is throwing one soon and I don’t want to go alone.”</p><p>“Charlie, last night I had to clean up your puke. What makes you think I wanna go to another party?” Neil whines. </p><p>Shit. So they <em> had </em> thrown up in Todd’s bathroom sink. Charlie starts to panic, mostly because they really don't want to come back to Steven empty-handed in regards to their plan. Also, they wanna see the look on his face when they’ve convinced Neil <em> and </em>Todd to come. </p><p>Suddenly, their panic subsides. They have a plan, and before they can think it through, they’re speaking. </p><p>“If you go, I’ll call S.” </p><p>Todd and Neil look at each other for a moment. It’s like they’re speaking a secret language. They’re sitting close enough that Charlie hopes they’re holding hands under the table. <br/><br/>“Fine,” Todd sighs, “I’m in.” <br/><br/>“Oh, okay Toddy. Always glad to party with you. I promise I won’t puke on your property again.” <br/><br/>“I don’t think I need any convincing. That Pitts kid is cool as fuck, you should invite him,” Knox says, more towards Todd. </p><p>“You promise you’ll call him? Tonight?” </p><p>“Yes, Neil. I’ll call him tonight.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> charlienotchaplin: hey steven, guess what ?????? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>stevenkcmeeks: Hey Charlie. What’s up</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> charlienotchaplin: i got neil AND todd to agree to the party.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> operation get neil and todd to stop avoiding their feelings is a go!!!!  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>stevenkcmeeks: How did you get both of them to agree? </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> charlienotchaplin: dude. todd was literally at my dorm with neil when i got home. they’re impossible.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>stevenkcmeeks: jesus. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> charlienotchaplin: no need to thank me  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>stevenkcmeeks: I didn’t even get the chance to see Todd!! </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Nvm… </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> charlienotchaplin: so you’re going to the party, right?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>stevenkcmeeks: Uhhh idk. Do i have to? </b>
</p><p> </p><p><em> charlienotchaplin </em> : <em> yes, duh </em>. </p><p><em> i need a right hand man so we can execute the plan </em> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>stevenkcmeeks: Oh right </b>
</p><p>
  <b>The genius plan that will totally not backfire on us </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> charlienotchaplin: has anyone ever told you you’re sarcastic  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> don’t come if you really don’t want to. but i’d appreciate the help.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>stevenkcmeeks: fine. I’ve helped this far…. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>and I didn’t sit through lunch with you for nothing </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> charlienotchaplin: are you implying i’m not enjoyable??? i’ll have you know i’m a catch and there are dozens on campus who would feel LUCKY to go to lunch with me  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>stevenkcmeeks: Guess i’m not one of them lmao,, </b>
</p><p>
  <b>sucks to suck! </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> charlienotchaplin: you’re a dick  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> you better be a good co-conspirator  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>stevenkcmeeks: I’ve seen enough bad tv dramas to know how to meddle </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Don’t worry Charlie, this’ll be over before you know it, and then you can unfollow me on ig </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> charlienotchaplin: as long as u don’t unfollow me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I have a brand to uphold  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>stevenkcmeeks: You’re impossible</b>
</p><p>
  <b>I don’t even use Instagram. Why are we talking on here?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>And also, how are you doing on the poetry project? </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> charlienotchaplin:  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> would you hate me if i said i was one follower away from 800 </em>
</p><p>
  <em> &amp; IRT the poetry project….. that's for me to know and for you to find out  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> (i’m….. working on it) </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: I should’ve guessed that lmao</b>
</p><p>
  <b>And what do you mean “working on it” ???</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: writer's block. not all of us greats can be productive all the time.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> are you writing something for you beau  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>stevenkcmeeks: God will you let up </b>
</p><p>
  <b>I was gonna ask if we could work on it together? For moral support</b>
</p><p>
  <b>But nevermind </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> charlienotchaplin: no wait!!!!!!! yes pls!! im sorry for calling u a nerd and a pompous asshole the other day i promise ur smart and cool and definitely NOT a nerd.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>stevenkcmeeks: If you said that you didn’t say it to my face</b>
</p><p>
  <b>So i’m gonna choose to ignore that</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Are you free tomorrow? We can work on it…. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>And conspire, I guess. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> charlienotchaplin: will there be a good playlist  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>stevenkcmeeks: I guess????</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> charlienotchaplin: can neil and todd come?????  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>stevenkcmeeks: Yeah of course</b>
</p><p>
  <b>If they want </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> charlienotchaplin: then i’m in  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> i gotta go tho.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> plans for tonight </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>stevenkcmeeks: I have to go too</b>
</p><p>
  <b>You’re not the only one with plans, o popular one</b>
</p><p>
  <b>I’ll text you about deets tomorrow, I can let Neil and Todd know</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> charlienotchaplin: sounds like a plan stevie </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>stevenkcmeeks: Go to hell</b>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: I FORGOT TO ASK.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> do u have any allergies?!?!!!?!!?!  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: Uh yeah, peanut allergy </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: SHIT. DAMN….. okay. what food do you like?? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: I’m not picky…. I’ve got a soft spot for pizza </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: …...okay GOOD  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: good?? </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: um in 30 minutes you’re gonna have pizza at ur door </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: Thank you :))) You didn’t have to </b>
</p><p>
  <em> C: Of course I did.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> gentleman always pays on the first date…. may not be a man but i'm a classy motherfucker  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: I’m rolling my eyes at you right now </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: also i have a kind of weird favor to ask you?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>S: Does it involve scheming?? I already had to scheme enough today</b> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: okay first of all everything that comes out of your mouth is an engima and it’s fucking adorable  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> …. second of all YES how did you know???  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: I don’t know I just guessed </b>
</p><p>
  <b>You’re chaotic </b>
</p><p>
  <b>In a charming way </b>
</p><p>
  <b>(the britney impression I heard earlier was really good)</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: oh my god  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I was britney last halloween yk </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ANYWAYSSS…. i may have promised my friends i would call you, for reasons </em>
</p><p>
  <em> but i don’t really want the first time we talk to be under these circumstances </em>
</p><p>
  <em> would you…. mind not picking up??? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: Oh yeah of course. I get it. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>You talk to your friends about me?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: all the time.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> do u talk to ur friends about meeeeeee??  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: Mostly just one of them</b>
</p><p>
  <b>I’m a little shy about it I guess</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: what do u say  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ALSO im gonna call u in like 10 minutes ok  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: Sounds good</b>
</p><p>
  <b>And I just… talk about you idk??? </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Maybe I say you’re cute </b>
</p><p>
  <b>And funny </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: ooooooooh  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> someone has a crush  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ON A STRANGER  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: You’re not a stranger </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> C: wait quick q  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Whats ur opinion on tats </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Cause i have… a lot  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>S: They’re cool! </b> <b><br/></b> <b>My friend Ginny is covered in them</b></p><p> </p><p><em> C: oh! </em> <em> <br/></em> <em> ginny is a nice name  </em></p><p>
  <em> ok im gonna call u now dont pick up or else  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>S: Or else what??</b>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Meeks is glad, the moment the call goes to voicemail, that he had forgotten to set a voicemail message when he got a new phone. Of all the ways for C to find out his name, that probably would’ve been the worst. Not to mention, the idea of them hearing his voice still felt too… soon. It’s weird. He <em> knows </em>them but he’s still petrified. Ginny would probably say it’s because of his issues with vulnerability and “putting himself out there,” but he’d argue that he’s pretty fucking out there, talking to a total stranger like this. </p><p>He hasn't really let himself think about what it would mean, to find out who C is. Its out of sight, out of mind. It's so unlike him, to relish in uncertainty. But uncertainty feels better than the possibility of-</p><p>Never mind. </p><p>He’s staring off into space listening to Christian Lee Hutson, waiting for C to text him back, when suddenly his phone blinks. A new message. A fucking voicemail. From C. Immediately, his brain launches into its spiel, ranging from <em>it's whatever dude, calm down </em>to <em>this is a stranger calling to laugh at how stupid you were for believing this</em>.  </p><p>Needless to say, he calls Todd. </p><p>“TODD. HELP,” Meeks tries to keep his voice down, very much aware that his upstairs neighbor is the one he’s panicking about. It’s no use. His voice cracks against the last word and he can feel his breath quickening. </p><p>“Are you okay??” Todd’s tone matches his, because of course it does. </p><p>“C called me. I…. They said they had some weird bet with their friend and that they’d call me and I shouldn’t pick up. So I let it go to voicemail, obviously, and…. There's a voicemail. Sitting in my inbox.”<br/><br/>“So you called me instead,” Todd isn’t questioning, merely stating the facts. Meeks would be more offended by this if he had a leg to stand on, but it’s true. </p><p>“Why are you whispering?” <br/><br/>“Um. Because…” Todd trails off. </p><p>“Are you with Neil? Tell him I say hi!” Meeks presses a hand to his chest and breathes deeply, slowly.</p><p>“Stop distracting. Go listen to the voicemail. Maybe you’ll figure out who it is.” <br/><br/>“But what if I don’t <em> want </em> to. Did you ever think of that??” <br/><br/>“Just listen to it. How bad could it be?” <br/><br/>“Fine,” Steven huffs, then his voice softens, “Thank you Todd.” <br/><br/>“Anytime. Oh, we’re gonna go to a party next weekend. You in?” <br/><br/>“You’re willingly going to a party? I thought we were anti-party together. Boo, I’m crossing you out.” <br/><br/>“Stop quoting Jennifer’s Body at me. I want you to go. You can invite your beau,” Todd has a teasing edge to his voice that he must’ve picked up from Neil. </p><p>“Why does everyone keep calling them my beau. Jesus. I guess I’ll go, but you owe me one.” </p><p>“Good. If what I owe you is doing part of your poetry project, I have free time on Tuesday.” <br/><br/>“Oh actually I’m gonna do the project with-” Meeks stops himself, “With a friend. Uh, I’ll talk to you later.” <br/><br/>“Text me what the voicemail is. And don’t forg-” </p><p>Steven hangs up and spends the next five minutes staring at his phone. He’s surprised that Todd didn’t hear the smile in his voice. He can’t lie for shit. He debates texting Charlie to gloat that he got an invite, but his mind trails back to the voicemail and how he’s, admittedly, being avoidant as hell. </p><p>He clicks the message, and presses the phone to his ear, waiting for it to play. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading this! Just a couple of notes:</p><p>Hi, my name is Han! I'm a nonbinary writer. I'm a bit out of practice in regards to writing fanfics. I've been a part of the dps fanbase since I was a teen, and used to write stuff then, but college got the best of me. In all honesty, writing this has been a way for me to relax and rediscover my love for this movie. </p><p>In case you didn't notice, Steven is trans and Charlie is nonbinary in this fic. I think it's an interesting characterization of both of them, and as a trans person I really see myself within both of these characters. </p><p>This fic is extremely indebted to stuff like Sleepless in Seattle, Dash &amp; Lily, You've Got Mail, etc. It wouldn't exist without all of the mediocre rom coms it pulls inspiration from. </p><p>The poem referenced is "When I Tell My Husband I Miss The Sun, He Knows" by Paige Lewis. The title song is "My Funny Valentine," specifically the cover by Chet Baker. </p><p>If you have any questions or want to talk about dps, my tumblr is https://tellmewhytheyswoon.tumblr.com </p><p>I'm gonna be updating probably every week or two, so keep an eye out if you're interested. </p><p>Finally, I just want to say thank you again for reading. This might be a weirdly formal/sentimental note to place on a random fic, but this is the first time in a while I've written something purely for enjoyment and not with a career in mind. </p><p>Your friend,<br/>Han (letitfillyoursoul)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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